


Roll Like Thunder, Burn Like Stars

by killingmonsterswritingthings



Category: One Piece
Genre: Abortion, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Asexual Character, Consent Issues, Gen, Jessica Jones AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nonbinary Character, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Private Investigators, Rape Aftermath, Trans Character, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 18:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 115,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5344670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingmonsterswritingthings/pseuds/killingmonsterswritingthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Law is a private investigator trying everything to forget his past. But there's ties he can't cut - especially when his past comes back to haunt him in a case.</p><p>or<br/> </p><p>  <i>“Why do you keep purposefully triggering yourself?” Corazón asked, his voice too close despite the tinny effect of the phone.</i></p><p>  <i>“I'm still talking to you, aren't I?” Law spat back. It was a terrible thing to say but it was also the only thing he could say without making his hands shake uncontrollably.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! I haven't written in the One Piece fandom in a long time and the last time I wrote a mystery/murder story in general was in high school, so please bear with me.
> 
> That said, this story is a very dark, very self-indulgent Jessica Jones AU, but you don't need to know the show/comics to enjoy it (although you should definitely watch Jessica Jones because it is INCREDIBLE). You should definitely read the warnings though because there is a lot of fucked up stuff happening.

 

Trafalgar Law didn't hate his job.

It would probably be terrible if he did, having chosen and built his existence in it himself. But he didn't enjoy making his living on taking pictures of people screwing much either – and that was sadly where more than half of his paychecks came from. Being a private investigator wasn't glamorous but it worked for him.

At least like this he still had the potential to do some good, and he had resigned himself to the drawbacks of his career a long time ago, especially since the past few months he hadn't been able to feel the bigger waves of most emotions anyway.

Not when he drowned them. In cheap liquor, sometimes, but that was beside the point.

 

He had just wrapped up his work on a case for the day – his camera's memory full of shots of a banker cheating on his wife with his fitness trainer – and was now standing across the street from a bar, his hands buried deeply in his pockets and his eyes trained on the entrance that was visible even through the passing cars.

Law had probably been in every bar in the neighborhood in his life so far, except this one. And he wasn't planning on ever entering it, either. Instead he waited, his breath puffing out small clouds that were barely visible against the orange glow of the street lights. This bar wasn't his domain. The privilege of going any nearer didn't belong to him.

Half an hour after his arrival the door opened, not for the first time this night, but the emerging person made Law perk up. He had gotten off early tonight.

Law set himself to following the young man, crossing the street while his target started down a familiar route down the block, but Law hadn't even reached the sidewalk when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket – and persistently so. For a moment he considered ignoring it but the prospect of missing another client made him pull out his phone anyway.

The name flashing over his screen read _Corazón_. Law groaned. “Shit...”

He pressed the answer button with a vicious kind of giving up because he knew that Corazón would just keep calling and fill up his voice mail. “What do you want?” he hissed into the speaker, picking up his brisk walk again.

“Hello to you too,” Corazón's voice rang in his ear, a little too cheerful to be believably real.

“I'm busy,” Law said, which wasn't a lie. Not really.

On the other end of the line Corazón sighed. “Are you following him again?”

Law grit his teeth and considered lying for a moment. “None of your business,” he said instead, but of course that was admission enough.

“Why do you keep purposefully triggering yourself?” Corazón asked, his voice too close despite the tinny effect of the phone.

“I'm still talking to you, aren't I?” Law spat back. It was a terrible thing to say but it was also the only thing he could say without making his hands shake uncontrollably.

He could hear another sigh from Corazón. “You barely do.” His voice sounded further away now and Law tried to tell himself that this was what he wanted. “Just... take care of yourself, alright?”

Law stopped walking. “I'm fine,” he said. He kept saying it to everyone, kept telling it to himself and somehow it didn't even register as a lie anymore. He _was_ fine. Just not in the same sense that everyone else assigned to the word.

“Law...,” Corazón said, sounding helpless and Law had to grit his teeth to keep himself from spitting out something thoughtless. He didn't want to hurt him any more than he already had.

“I'm not even taking pictures anymore, okay?” he choked out. “I just... need to know.” That much was true, although he wasn't sure what exactly he had to know. There was no way someone could bounce back from this so fast to happiness. Maybe he just wanted to assure safety.

“Alright.” Nothing more, and Law knew he had won this round. If you could call it winning, having neither fought a battle nor had an elaborate argument. “I'll call you later.”

Law ended the phone call without saying another word and stuffed his phone into his pocket. The boy was long gone now, of course. But Corazón had dragged his guilt back to the surface. He wasn't being paid for doing this and somehow that made it creepier in his eyes – a feeling that every person outside of his field of work would call morbidly backwards. With a scoffing noise Law put his heel against the ground and turned around to walk back the way he had come. Going home was one of his less liked activities but if he was lucky he would get a few hours of sleep before he had to call his current client in the morning. But he didn't feel lucky.

 

 

 _Home_ was a decently sized apartment a few stations away and when Law kicked the door closed behind him he felt some of the tension fall off. Not all of it, never all of it, but the emptiness of his own four walls made him feel at least somewhat safer. Like he was in control. Out in the city anything could happen, at any time.

He dropped his bag – containing his camera and his empty thermos – on his desk and let himself fall into his chair, kicking his boots off. For a moment he just stared into space and tried to empty his head but he knew it was futile, his thoughts pressing in like the crowd on his long-abandoned morning commute, so he got back up and went into the kitchen without printing out today's pictures. They could wait.

The whiskey bottle on the counter would be enough – would have to be enough – for tonight. Law eyed it for a moment, then he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it.

Corazón's words – _take care of yourself_ – rang in his ears and he scoffed, downing the whiskey. It would have been an insult to the alcohol, if the alcohol itself hadn't already been an insult to humanity.

Law wiped his mouth, refilled the glass and headed into his bedroom where he set it down on his bedside table before shedding his pullover and letting himself drop into bed, not bothering to take off his jeans. His bone-deep exhaustion, usually ignored during the day, spread through his body but when he closed his eyes there was a dull hum in his ears that had nothing to do with the blood pumping through his veins.

“Fuck,” he groaned, turning onto his side and worming his hand into his pocket to dig for his phone. Not because it was uncomfortable – he had slept in worse positions – but because he just couldn't let it go. No matter what Corazón said, no matter the guilt he tried to push aside, he needed to check up on him.

He sat up and unlocked the phone, thumbed through the menu and hit the Facebook button. Doing this from his phone was what had bothered him most at the beginning, he had no security measures installed on it to hide his endeavors, but he kept telling himself that someone like the person he was checking up on had bigger things to worry about than anonymous people stalking his – very public – profile.

 _Monkey D. Luffy_ , read the name next to the picture. Despite his best efforts Law still hadn't found out what the D. stood for and he had seen the kid's birth certificate and ID. Or well, copies of them. But it showed up on neither of them and hacking into the scans of his enrollment papers at the University hadn't gotten Law any results either. It remained a secret.

Maybe Law should tell Corazón that next time – a weak justification for his continued check-ups and an obsessive and creepy one at that, but at least it would be something to say.

There was a new status, dated around two hours back, and like all of Luffy's other updates it was filled with emojis.

_Love when my friends visit me at work!! All games, all fun! Although a certain someone (Sanji!) shouldn't complain about our food options, we're a bar!!!_

Law rolled his eyes. All games, all fun, huh? That sounded vastly different from the bars he frequented and he prided himself on his observational skills. But then again, he had never set foot into Luffy's place of work and he didn't intend on ever doing so. There were boundaries and he had crossed far too many of them already. Somewhere he had to draw a line for himself.

His phone vibrated in his hands and he flinched, dropping it into his sheets.

Jesus, he would have to work on his reflexes. He couldn't get startled so easily.

He picked his phone back up and tapped on the new message he had gotten from Corazón.

Corazón, 04:16am: _I hope you got home alright_

Law frowned and answered before he could think better of it.

Law, 04:17am: _Go to sleep._

Corazón, 04:19am: _I'm at a night shoot. What's your excuse?_

Law, 04:20am: _The usual._

He let his phone drop back onto his mattress – deliberately this time. The usual. Just too uneasy to go to sleep, too haunted by the darkness in his days that the darkness of his nights was something he liked to avoid whenever possible.

With a sharp sigh he took the glass of whiskey from the bedside table and emptied it in three gulps before settling back down. _Here goes nothing._

He pushed his legs under the blanket, pulling it up with his arm lazily. He felt dulled, this thoughts dimmed enough. Maybe it would be enough. Maybe sleep would come.

 

 

There was a voice, echoing the same words around in his skull over and over.

_**Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it.** _

_**Do. It.** _

He felt, saw, _heard_ himself crushing the heart in his hand. It was beating fast, hot against his palm. Blood ran down his arm, dripping onto the concrete, wet against his fingers.

 

Law awoke with a gasp, his own heart hammering against his ribs and his hands flew up to claw at his throat to pry away the invisible – nonexistent – claws around his windpipe. It wasn't even what it had felt like, back then, but it's what he felt now, unable to breathe, to think straight, his legs kicking out wildly.

He forced himself to train his eyes on the ceiling, the familiar spots and uneven bumps visible in the dim light filtering through the blinds, and recite the words to himself. “Dove Street,” he pressed out, “Argent Way. Amber Road. Main Street.” Breathing became less impossible but his hands were still curled into fists on top of his chest.

Replacing the horrors of one trauma with the memories of another. Of course his therapists hadn't seen it that way but to Law that was what it was. But apparently it helped. It calmed him down, pulled him out of the horrible state were he couldn't breathe, could barely tell where he was and sometimes didn't even know _who_ he was. He had suspected it wasn't the words themselves, that they were replaceable with whatever random phrase one could think of but he had never tried it, despite his bitterness concerning every attempt psychology had made him do towards recovery.

Law let out a long, stuttering breath and then sucked air back into his lungs. They worked, like they should, like they always did, despite what the weight on his chest told him.

He searched blindly for his phone, still in the same spot where he had dropped it, and pressed the home button.

_6:31am._

He groaned and turned around, curled up under the blanket. He'd rather not sleep at all than this little, this fitfully, this _tortured_. He pushed the thought away, tried to focus on his breathing instead. In and out, steady, secure. It had been a nightmare, a memory, nothing more. Reality looked different now – still bleak and bitter but better. Much better.

“You're okay,” he told himself. “You're okay. He's dead. You're okay.”

 

 

 

The next morning he had to will himself to open his eyes at the sound of his alarm and it took him a moment to remember why he had even set it. Being a PI came with the advantage of having no set office hours and no scheduled shifts. He could live by his own rules – most of his work was done at night anyway.

Sadly not the face-to-face kind of work with clients though. There was always the bothersome task of wrapping up cases – and that required human contact. He resented it, but it was where his money came from.

So he dragged himself out of bed and noticed, while picking up his phone, that his pillowcase had been stained with his make-up again. He rubbed his stubbly cheek with a sigh and turned around, leaving it as it was. He would forget to take it off tonight anyway so there was no reason to bother with changing the sheets.

The kitchen tiles were cold under his bare feet but the light from the fridge seemed somehow warm, warmer than its gaping empty insides. Law picked up the milk carton he knew he hadn't bought so long ago and shook it a little, hearing the satisfying slosh of liquid that should be enough for at least a small bowl of cereal. The cereal box, at least, was still more than half full and a minute later Law walked into his office with his bowl securely in his right hand.

Printing the pictures from last night didn't take very long and Law just took another glance at them before he called his client, who even picked up. Did the poor woman not have a job of her own? He almost wanted to give her the advice to go out and find one, before he remembered that the reason he was doing this at all was because she was hoping to get most of her husband's money out of the divorce. Distasteful – but lucrative.

“I got the pictures,” he simply said.

“I'll be right over.”

Well, that certainly hadn't been a long conversation. Maybe she would be one of the few clients that didn't make a fuss, just took the pictures, paid up and left. It would make Law's day easier, at least.

'Right over' still meant at least over an hour so Law took that opportunity to take a shower – which washed off the rest of the make-up on his skin. He didn't always use it but sometimes it was necessary. He already stood out with his height, the discoloration and the tattoos didn't make it better. At least the tattoos had been a choice – and he stood by them, usually.

He also put some laundry in the machine, since some of his clothes were stained like his pillow. It wasn't bad, it never stuck. Sometimes Law wished everything came out in the wash like that. But flushing out his mind hadn't worked so far.

For all his productivity it still left him with no groceries but that would have to wait until after the client left, if he was going to do it at all.

So he toyed with his phone in his hand for a while, teetering on the edge of boredom – never a good state for him to be in – until it knocked on his door and he got up to let in his visitor.

 

The banker's wife was sadly less relaxed than he had hoped. Seeing the pictures seemed to upset her and Law watched her with growing unease.

“I can't believe she would do this,” she said and Law knew it hadn't been a slip. The fitness trainer was her friend, had probably been closer with her than her husband in the last few months. It wasn't that he understood her disappointment but he was in no way prepared to be on the receiving end of it. But instead of just keeping their emotional outbursts for their partners or lawyers most of his clients took it out on him.

“You should find yourself better friends,” he said drily, leaning back in his chair, aware of the mistake he was about to make. “And a better partner.”

“Excuse me?” she squawked and Law closed his eyes for a second. He shouldn't have provoked her, but today was one of these days where he couldn't deal with other people's feelings – and was already bad at it on good days.

“Listen, it's shitty, yeah,” he said, trying to muster up the minimum of compassion for this situation, “but you already knew he was cheating on you. The only surprise was who he was cheating _with_.”

She stared at him for a second before gathering up the envelope with the pictures, the vital evidence for her divorce lawyer, and getting up. “I'm leaving,” she stated, unnecessarily, and started for the door.

“Okay,” Law said, calmly, watching her leave with relief. “Good luck.”

He would have reminded her to pay her bill but he knew from experience that that would just bring on another shouting spell – and in a few days he would find the check in the mail anyway. Clients like this were easily upset but they also knew what they had in him. He did his job well.

 

 

Her exit left him free to finally do some grocery shopping – not that he ever cooked much, mainly surviving on booze and take-out but he would do it anyway just to have something to do – and he left his flat with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck, the wind already too eager to bite at his skin for mid October.

He had barely made it to the small store around the corner when he heard his name.

“Law! Hey, Law!”

With a sigh he stopped and turned around, just to be greeted by the sight of his neighbor rushing up to him. “Hello Bepo,” he said.

For a moment he thought Bepo had lost his keys again, which was not a common occurrence but it had happened once or twice; often enough for Law to receive the questionable honor of being the keeper of Bepo's second key. Thankfully though, that was not the case today. “Want some company?”

Law's hand twitched and he suppressed a groan of annoyance. Bepo was a handful. Young – younger than Law, at least – and excitable and probably a little anxious he had somehow gotten it into his head to befriend Law. Not the students his age on the floor above them, not the nice middle-aged lady that lived at the other end of the hall, no. It had to be Law.

But somehow Law didn't have it in him to hurt the kid. Not when he had seen the inside of his flat on different occasions, had been trusted with a _key_ because Bepo had apparently no other friends and no safety net. The realization that he reminded him of himself had startled him, the first time he had thought of it but now he was just resigned to it. He couldn't get rid of Bepo.

“Sure,” he said, aware that the one who wanted company here wasn't actually him – it was the guy next to him, who no doubt hadn't done his grocery shopping in just as long as he had.

So they entered the store together, Bepo keeping closer to Law's side than was really comfortable, but Law didn't object. “Do you have anything particular that you need?” Law asked.

“Bread,” Bepo said, a little too fast. “And pasta and juice and bell peppers.”

Law sighed. “Alright,” he said, “let's get some food.”

It took a painfully long time to walk along every aisle of the store and collect groceries for two people instead of one but Law held his tongue. He knew what it felt like to be terrified to leave the house, so he couldn't judge. And at least Bepo had reminded him that he was also out of crackers – and snacks were always a good thing to have on hand – so the situation had its advantages.

“You got money?” Law asked once they got to the checkout line. It had happened in the past and he had given Bepo enough money that he had stopped keeping tabs on it, but today Bepo nodded.

“Yeah,” he said and dug into his pockets for his wallet.

Law waited with his bags in his hands while Bepo paid for his own purchases, his eyes trained on the cashier, just waiting for her to make a wrong move. It didn't matter if that entailed making a wrong comment about Bepo or suddenly whipping out a gun, she wouldn't get to do either of it unscathed.

She didn't make any wrong moves, of course.

Their way home was spent in silence until they were almost at their front door.

“Hey, thanks,” Bepo said with his nose almost buried in his scarf and a traitorous blush creeping up his cheeks.

“It's no problem,” Law said, because it wasn't. He had bigger issues in his life than an insecure kid using him as a crutch from time to time. At least he could get out of this as fast as he had gotten into it – he would just have to give the key back, place some harsh words and he would be free of Bepo. The thing about it was, though, that he didn't want to. So he didn't.

 

When they got back to their floor there was a woman standing in front of Law's door, staring intently at her phone and Law didn't hesitate for a second.

“Hi, can I help you?” Not overly friendly, but he did know when he had to be polite. She looked smart, conventionally beautiful and _definitely_ rich. Richer than the banker's wife from earlier. The kind of rich that wasn't immediately obvious, a reserved, calm kind of rich. But Law could tell.

Bepo, understanding that this was a potential client and not an unwelcome visitor, vanished into his flat in an instant. The kid knew when to make himself scarce, probably brought on by years of practice. It was kind of sad.

The woman looked up, her neatly braided dark-red hair slipping over her shoulder and she looked a little surprised for a second. Law knew that look and he had learned to shrug it off. Not many people could conceal their reactions to his face.

“Um,” she made before she could catch herself. “I'm looking for Trafalgar Law?”

Law shifted his second shopping bag from his right hand to join the other one in the left and took his keys out of his coat pocket. “That's me,” he said. “I'll assume you're here to hire me?”

She gave a nod and stepped aside so he could open the door. “I'm Riku Scarlett. I'm sorry to just show up like this, I know your website said to call, but it was urgent and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I might as well try.”

“Urgent?” he echoed and pushed open the door, letting her inside in front of him before stepping over the threshold himself and closing it behind him. The part about being in the neighborhood had to be a lie, there were no high-end hotels or apartments around here – not for people with the kind of money she had to have. “I hope I have enough time to put away my milk first.” He hadn't intended it to be a joke, already on the way to the kitchen to at least put away whatever little amount of food needed to go into the fridge but he heard her quiet laughter following him anyway. Easily amused then.

He came back into his office to find her inspecting his bookshelf. It made him uneasy, people knowing the amount of medical books he had, but she didn't comment on it. Instead she gracefully sat down in the chair in front of his desk, him taking a seat opposite of her.

“I want you to find my daughter,” she said, before he could even formulate the question, sliding a photograph over his desk. “Her name is Rebecca, she came here to study. But three weeks ago she broke off all contact except for... troubling phone calls, moved out of her flatshare and she hasn't been seen at her University since. It worries me... it worries us.”

Law raised his eyebrows slightly at the correction but looked at the photo instead of inquiring about the family situation. “Maybe she has just run away. With a lover, I could imagine,” he commented. That was usually how cases like this went. Pressured students or closeted students or just plain simply desperate students. It wasn't a new concept.

Scarlett shook her head. “She called me, to tell me she was taking a break. But she wouldn't do something like this, not without talking to me. She's on a scholarship, on the soccer team, she wouldn't throw that away for just anyone. And she has always talked to me, about every big decision.”

Law pulled up his leg onto his chair. “Alright,” he said, typing up notes on his Laptop.

“I went to the police but she's not actually _missing_ _,_ since she still calls me, and there's no evidence of a crime but they referred me to you.”

Now his eyebrows went up noticeably and he looked up from his Laptop, frowning at her before he could think better of it. This didn't happen often. He didn't play well with authorities, ironically.

“The police referred you?” he asked. Weird.

She eyed him in suspicion. “Is this unusual?”

He bit his lip. _Fuck_. He couldn't let his clients see his surprise like that – it made him seem even more out of place than he already was. “Not really,” he said breezily, steering away from the topic quickly. “I'll get you a standard contract. I can assure you I'll do my best to find your daughter.”

It intrigued him and he wasn't quite sure why. He pondered over it while Scarlett signed the contract and he followed her hand's movement like he was being hypnotized. Cases like this were usually straightforward but Scarlett had seemed genuine – and she was authentic and young enough to actually have a good relationship with her daughter; she clearly knew her well enough to know that something was wrong beyond academic reasons or a hopeless infatuation.

Something told him Riku Rebecca had neither fallen helplessly in love nor joined a cult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic title comes from the All Time Low Song [Runaways](https://vimeo.com/133801233)
> 
> I plan on updating every 1-2 weeks but I'm a very slow writer so you might have to be patient with me.  
> Come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/luffylaws) or [tumblr](https://luffylaws.tumblr.com) though, I'm always up for new One Piece friends and yelling about LawLuffy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are for chapter 2! um, warning for emetophobia if that's something that squicks/triggers you.

 

Law didn't smile much. Not ever, really.

He had in the past, of course, but it had slipped away with a good chunk of his sanity over a year ago. So he didn't give Scarlett one of his rare smiles when she left, hoping that the promise of finding her daughter would be enough.

He set out on the internet to verify her claims – it all checked out. Scarlett was a teacher who had come into a large inheritance from her father, her husband Kyros – whom she had failed to mention outright – was running a training program at an army base in Germany. Their estrangement, if it existed, didn't seem to be fresh enough to have triggered Rebecca's disappearance. Rebecca in turn was a biology student with an athletic scholarship for the soccer team, which she had quit a few days ago. Law frowned. Why not earlier? Why hold on to that?

Law also tried to research Rebecca's roommate before going to meet her but was pretty sure that he wouldn't have had more luck even with more time at his disposal. She wasn't a ghost, but she was elusive. All her social media accounts had intricate privacy settings and he didn't have the energy to circumvent them. So he would have to rely on his rather shitty conversational skill and her honesty. To be fair an archeology student couldn't be so bad. The cannibals were usually in the other sciences – or psychiatry.

So he crammed his camera – out of sheer habit – and his notebook into his bag and then hesitated in the doorway to the kitchen before walking in and filling up his thermos with the rest of the whiskey. It got darker every day now and the darkness didn't agree with him; even if other people seemed to draw that conclusion about him quite often.

He didn't bother with covering up the marks on his skin or his tattoos today. This was official business. And who knew, maybe a little honesty would open the doors to the roommates secrets – and there had to be some, only people with secrets had virtually no public online presence.

 

He arrived at the door of the small flat Rebecca had shared with her roommate Nico Robin half an hour later and knocked.

There was light footsteps on the other side and then a click as the door was unlocked and opened a crack. Startlingly blue eyes in a face framed by stark black hair peered out and Law felt like this person could see right through him.

“Hi,” Law said, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans and uneasily shifted his weight, “I'm Trafalgar Law, I'm a PI. Rebecca's mother hired me to look into her... disappearance.”

The door opened a little more and revealed the rest of Nico Robin who – alongside the door – seemed to have opened up her body language. “Come in,” she said. “My name's Nico Robin, as you surely know.”

“I do,” Law nodded, stepping through the door and quickly surveying the room.

There wasn't much of an entryway to speak of, the room opening up immediately into a living room with a small kitchen area to the left.

“I'm glad her parents didn't just give up after getting turned away by the police,” Robin said and then gestured at the sofa. “Please, sit. Do you want some tea?”

Law blinked at the unexpected hospitality. “Uh,” he made, “no, thank you... You know about her mother hiring me?”

She sat down on a chair to the side and shrugged. “No, but she called me twice. Once to ask if Rebecca had been back and once to tell me about the police being unhelpful.”

Law nodded slightly. It seemed reasonable, keeping the roommate in the loop. “Yeah, they usually are,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Robin but she chuckled slightly anyway. “You seem remarkably calm about the situation.”

Robin tiled her head slightly to the side. “Believe me, I'm not. I'm worried about Rebecca, this isn't like her at all. She doesn't behave like this in relationships.”

“That's not what I meant,” Law said, underlining her statement on his paper anyway. It went with what Scarlett had said about her daughter. “You don't seem to be angry at her. You'll have to pay rent soon...”

“That's the least of my worries,” Robin said, shaking her head. “I have some money saved up. I just want Rebecca to be safe.”

“How long have you known her?” Law asked.

“A bit over a year and a half now,” Robin said and looked at her hands for a second. “I met her for the first time when she was touring the campus, actually, and we kept in touch. When she told me she didn't want to live in the dorms I offered to share an apartment with her. I was basically living on my friends' couch at the time.” Law had to take a moment to take that in. Strong friendships weren't something he encountered every day – not in his line of work and not in his personal life. Robin kept talking anyway. “Not a lot of people actually want to be roommates, let alone friends, with a twenty-eight year old former refugee slash immigrant grad student who – on top of that – is a trans woman,” Robin said and Law stared at her, perplexed as to why she would just tell him all of this. “I got lucky with Rebecca. And the others.”

“Lucky?” he echoed before his thoughts caught up with his mouth. “So you shared a circle of friends?”

Robin smiled softly. “We have a little... crew, is what he calls it, I believe,” she confessed.

“He?” he asked, feeling like he was just repeating words that weren't relevant to the situation at all. Weirdly enough it didn't annoy him, Robin's fondness of Rebecca was just another factor that made this situation even more mysterious.

“It's not actually important to this, I think,” Robin said, waving her hand dismissively. “A friend.”

Law blinked and absentmindedly noted down something about social life and friends, trying to find a way to turn the topic back to Rebecca's disappearance. “A relationship, you said? So there is a partner she could have run away with.”

“There is,” Robin nodded. “I've actually never met the man but it seemed... weird. She was so secretive about it and she knows I don't judge. She's brought enough people of different genders here to be aware of that.”

“Did she tell you anything about him?” he asked, tapping his notebook with his pen. If Rebecca had been open about her sexuality with her roommate then the secrecy must have been on the boyfriends' side. Which usually was a huge red flag.

Robin shrugged. “Not much,” she said, “and usually she can't shut up about her crushes. I thought it was weird but then I thought maybe she felt awkward about the age gap.”

Law's jaw twitched. “Age gap?”

“Yeah, she didn't ever outright say it but he must have been quite a bit older than her. He's definitely not a student,” she said and sighed. “I should have been more alert to it, I know, but I was busy with work and then she vanished and I... I'm really sorry.” She wiped her eyes.

“It's okay,” Law said, averting his eyes. “She's still alive and she still calls her mother once a week. I'm going to find her.” It sounded harsh, but this was all he could do. He wasn't big on comforting people, it was a skill he had never really aquired, but he knew how to do his job. “Do you mind if I take a look at her room?”

 

Rebecca's room didn't provide much further insight with some of her clothes and both her Laptop and phone gone. Law stood in the middle of the tidy room, dragged his hand over his face and wondered what he was missing. In the end he exited the room with some of her university papers and some files about her credit card. Maybe she had left a trail there.

When he got back to the living room Robin was sitting on the couch with a lot of notes spread out on the table in front of her. It looked more like she was trying to distract herself than actually working. She turned around when she heard him and he was about to say something when the front door flew open, causing them both to flinch.

“Hey Robin, wanna come check out Franky's newest thing at his workshop with us?”

Law closed his eyes in horrified realization. This had to be another one of his nightmares.

Monkey D. Luffy had just burst through the door, an excited grin on his face.

“I told you to _knock_!” Another voice, unfamiliar, cut in. “God, will you ever get manners?” A redheaded girl stormed in after Luffy and gave him a smack on the back of his head, which he ignored with ease.

“Hello Luffy,” Robin said in a slightly amused voice, indicating that this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

Law felt like he was going to be sick. And that was before Luffy noticed him and blinked at him in confusion. “Oh, who are you?”

His mouth opened but no words came out. This couldn't be real.

“This is Trafalgar Law,” Robin cut in; a saint, an angel in disguise, a savior in this terrible moment. “Rebecca's mother hired him to find her since the police can't do anything. He was just taking a look around.”

Law still felt exposed, even after Robin's explanation, under Luffy's scrutiny. The kid kept staring at him with the recognition Law had never wanted to see on his face.

“I've seen you before,” he said and it seemed to Law like someone was trying to pump ice through his veins. “But you never come inside the bar.”

 _Fuck._ He wasn't as stealthy as he thought he was, apparently. Not when it came to this.

“I need to go,” he pressed out, his hands shaking as he grabbed his bag.

“Oh okay,” Luffy said, now somehow managing to seem sad to see Law go. “Do your best to find Rebecca, alright? We all miss her!”

Law ignored his words, darting out the door with his brain threatening to burst out of his skull and his legs so weak he feared he wouldn't make it down the four flights of stairs to the street.

He did, but barely. He threw up next to the trash cans beside the outer stairs and he felt like dying.

Instead he straightened up, wiped his mouth and pulled his thermos from his bag. His hands shook violently while he unscrewed it but he brought it to his lips anyway and drank in deep gulps, the burn of the alcohol as it ran down his throat a welcome pain.

He drank until his hands felt steadier again and only then put the thermos back into his bag.

He could make it home. He could make it to his bed. He could make it.

 

But before he even got to catch a taxi, standing on the curb with his eyes on the lights of the passing cars, his phone vibrated against his hip in his coat pocket and he pulled it out with a low growl to shut it off. He had had enough of work today.

Fucking Sengoku was calling him. Law already hated these phone calls on good days, dreaded them almost, as if he didn't know what real dread felt like. Today even the letters of the name on his screen made him want to throw up again. He couldn't do this. Not today. Not ever.

He hit the green button anyway, almost as if on impulse, because if he didn't answer Sengoku would just bother Corazón instead and in the end Law would end up talking to him anyway.

He stepped back onto the sidewalk, the phone pressed to his ear and waited. He had no words for Sengoku at the moment. His former foster father would notice he had picked up without him saying anything.

And sure as clockwork came the voice from the speaker. “I need you to do something for me.”

Law's blood ran cold. “No,” he said, his voice sounding sharper than any blade he had ever wielded. No more cutting people's hearts out. Never again. “I told you already, I won't.” _I can't_.

“You only have to tell him that you can,” Sengoku sighed. “I'm not asking you to commit a crime here, Trafalgar, you know that. Just... talk to him a little.”

Words were sharper than knives.

“No.”

Law was holding onto the phone so tightly he was afraid it might break. But maybe he would break first, shatter into a million pieces right here on the street, disappear into oblivion. It would be better than this.

There was an exasperated sigh. “Please,” uncharacteristic, but not likely to sway Law. “The man almost beat his girlfriend into a coma and _she's suing him_ and the evidence is good. We need to deliver him that summons.”

_Fuck._

“Can't they just fucking arrest him?” he sighed, his hand already reaching for the thermos again.

“He's too powerful,” Sengoku said and that could only mean two things. Either the man was in with the government or he had actual _powers_ – god forbid it was both.

“Too fucking powerful for police custody?” Law growled. Goddammit. “Fine, but you need to pay me!” This would hurt him more than the asshole on the receiving end of the threat, he deserved compensation.

“Of course.”

He ended the call and had the info about his target in his email three minutes later. A club and casino empire owner named Enel, rich benefactor of several politicians – Law groaned at the list of names – who would be visiting a gallery opening tonight.

At least the file said nothing about Devil Fruit powers and Sengoku wouldn't withhold that information from Law; if he had it. Law sighed and set off towards the nearest liquor store. This was going to be a long stake out.

 

 

It took hours to catch Enel – dubbed Rich Asshole by Law and his copious amounts of whiskey – alone but finally, after ages at the gallery opening and a visit to a bar, the man took off in his car.

Law didn't want to initiate an obvious, messy car chase and he didn't have the speed to follow on foot but he knew where the asshole lived, which was enough to figure out his most likely route to his apartment.

He knew the man wouldn't stop if he tried to flag him down – Enel's sexual preference seemed to be blonde girls and Law was neither of those things, albeit long-legged – but he didn't have to.

His pocket knife felt foreign in his hands, not having been used in so long. He hadn't even known he still had it in his bag, fearing he would have to break a bottle and use its edges, which would have been a lot less effective.

The approaching rumble of the engine made his grip around the knife shake.

“You're not going to hurt him,” he told himself. “You're in control. It's a necessary scare technique.”

The car's lights turned the corner and Law stepped out of the entryway he had been waiting in. “Room,” he mumbled, flexing his right hand. The effect almost made him stumble back again, even though there really wasn't much about it that affected him physically.

He told himself to breathe, the car approaching rapidly. When they were almost at the same height he slashed the small blade through the air once, just lightly. At least the asshole wasn't driving fast, which meant he wouldn't even get injured.

There was a loud noise and the car jerked, its occupant apparently at least calm enough to brake and not let it swerve too much. Then it came to a halt and Law shoved his hands, closed pocket knife heavy in his palm, into his pockets to saunter onto the street and gently tap against the asshole's window.

He rolled it down, a sour expression on his already sweat-stained face. “What?” he hissed.

“Need some help?” Law asked sweetly.

“Fuck off, man, can't you see I have a flat tire?”

“I can, actually,” Law said and he had to admit that this was actually enjoyable. _Shit._ “I could help you with changing it but if you don't think you need help, I'll just leave you with this.” He pulled the slightly crumpled letter out of his coat pocket and shoved it through the open window into Enel's hand that had automatically come up to take whatever was being thrown at him.

“The fuck is this?” he growled.

“A court summons,” Law said, rocking back onto his heels and suppressing a slight grin while he took his phone out. “You've been served.” A flash, confused blinking in the aftermath and Law had the asshole's face on an evidence picture to send to Sengoku. This would have to be enough. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with my bed... and you need to change that tire.”

 

The reality of what Law had done didn't hit him until he was two blocks away but then it almost made him double over.

It had been over a year since he had used his powers last and the memory made bile rise in his throat. He tripped over his own feet and had to lean against the pole of a street light to make sure he didn't fall. He had done what he'd sworn he'd never do again.

This wasn't what his powers were for.

To be honest, he had no idea what his powers were meant to do, in a perfect world. But he knew it wasn't this. He didn't want to enjoy striking fear into people's hearts – no matter what horrible things they had done. He didn't want to kill.

He looked down at his shaking hands and the stark letters on his knuckles spelling out his legacy seemed to mock him. DEATH. They had been just a joke, back when he had started University, young and reckless and full of wonder. A dare with friends – he had had friends back then – after a night out. Irony. Dark, terrible irony now.

They had faded after a while, as knuckle tattoos were prone to do, but he had gotten them touched up in a fit of rage and fog almost ten months ago. Another mistake.

He balled his hands into fists and brought them against his thighs in a helpless punch. It didn't even hurt much.

_**You enjoyed that, didn't you?** _

The voice in his ear was so clear, so sharp. Mocking. He spun around but there was no one there.

He was alone. The tremors ran through his entire body.

He forced himself to look at the unreadable street sign in the distance. “Dove Street,” he gasped, “Argent Way. Amber Road.”

The memory receded but the awful feeling stayed and he knew for a fact that his thermos was empty. He just wanted to go home.

 

 

The subway ride home was silent and Law felt caged in and exposed at the same time, even though other people seemed to steer clear of him. It was like his mask had slipped again, like his make-up had smudged and shown everyone the scars, the marks, the ways in which he was damaged – visible or not.

He was still sweating, could feel it drying cold on his back, and his hands were still shaking along with his thoughts but at least he could breathe. At least he could do that.

The way from the station to his apartment building led him past another liquor store and he knew he was out of whiskey, knew that he shouldn't buy more. But he had to, if he wanted to sleep, if he wanted to think.

That's how he ended up in his office chair, the bottle unscrewed on his desk in front of him, not worthy of a glass, not needing one. He had his head tipped back and was staring at the ceiling and wondered what kind of life the people above him led except for the occasional fight or fuck he heard through the plaster. He hoped it was less fucked up than his.

When he took his next swig out of the bottle he noticed that it was already half-empty. Why did it never last? Why did nothing good ever last?

He got up and grabbed the bottle and his phone from the desk, stumbling over to the sofa in the opposite corner of the room. It was more comfortable than the chair. It was safer than sitting with his back to the window.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed but at some point he found himself dialing Corazón's number on his phone. He hung up before it could go through. He shouldn't call Corazón now. He shouldn't call Corazón at all, actually, but he never had to.

Corazón didn't call back but Law redialed and there was an audible click in the line after a few seconds.

“Law,” Corazón said, sounding tired. “What's wrong?”

“Cora, I'm really fucked up...” he slurred and realized somehow, somewhere that he hadn't called Corazón that in a long long time. Corazón didn't comment on it.

“He's dead, Law,” he said instead. “He's dead and not coming back. We both know that. You saw the death certificate.” And Law realized, remembered, that Corazón had been affected just as much as him. That this wasn't all about him. It had been the reason he had distanced himself from Corazón at all, wanting to give them both the space to heal – and also not being able to look him into the eye without feeling crushing guilt.

“I'm sorry,” Law said from where he was staring at his feet on the couch, his voice barely above a whisper.

Corazón sighed into his ear. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said and they both knew that it was a lie. Law had too much to apologize for.

“I'm sorry,” he repeated.

“You need to sleep,” Corazón said, “and sober up. Can you do that for me?”

Law laughed joylessly. “You know I'm never really sober.” Or awake, for that matter.

“Law, please.” Corazón still sounded so tired, perhaps even more than when they had started this conversation and Law felt the guilt flood his senses. He couldn't stop himself from fucking up, could never stop himself from doing the one thing he wanted to avoid at all costs. Hurting Corazón. Still, he didn't want to hear Law's apologies or his pity parties, so Law would just have to live with it.

“Good night, Cora,” he said and took the phone away from his ear.

Corazón's responding “Good night, little brother,” still reached him, floating from the speaker in the mock-whisper of technology and Law felt his heart stop for a second. He let his phone clatter to the floor and breathed in through his nose. Why did Corazón always have to hit him with stuff like this? It wasn't fair. But then again, Law had never played fair himself.

He picked the bottle back up from where it had been standing next to his uselessly dangling arm and drank some more. He wouldn't leave this spot anymore tonight.

His sofa was harder than his bed but it was also less likely to give him nightmares. He turned around and pressed his forehead into the armrest, hard enough to make it throb slightly and remind him that he was still human, no matter how much he thought of himself as a monster and no matter how much he tried to drown the human part of him.

When would he forget? When would it all end?

He groaned, pushed his head off the armrest and took another swig of whiskey before flopping back down. Another cushion in his home destined to be stained by make-up he had applied in a bathroom at the other end of the city earlier that night. He took solace in stains that washed out.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the murder chapter, so be aware of the (minor) character death at the end there ✌

 

Law didn't need a lot of sleep. Or so he told himself.

Of course that was why he woke up in the middle of the night. It wasn't the uneasiness in his bones or the pain in his temple. Either way he was awake enough to open up his Laptop and go through Rebecca's credit card expenses. Or so he thought, but after a few minutes his eyelids started drooping again and he pushed his Laptop to the other end of the couch. There was no sense behind trying to get work done when he couldn't look at it without the screen getting blurry in front of his eyes.

He fell back into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.

  


He woke up again to sunlight in his eyes and the nerve-grating sound of his phone vibrating against the wooden floor, slowly skittering across the floorboards.

“Goddammit,” he groaned and fished for it with his fingers, only looking through half-opened eyes, and finally got to grab it. He answered it without looking at the screen. “Yes?”

“Hello, this is Scarlett, Rebecca's mother.”

 _Shit._ Law sat up a little and combed a hand through his hair. He had no idea what time it was. “Yeah, uh, hi.”

“Is something wrong?” Scarlett asked and Law suppressed a groan.

“No, I just had a late night working your case,” he said. It wasn't a lie, he had been up in the middle of the night doing some work for it. He took his Laptop from where it was still lying at the end of the couch and opened it. “Did Rebecca use her credit card a lot in the past?”

“What?” He could almost hear the frown over the line. “That credit card was for emergencies, she's never used it before...”

So the spending had something to do with the man – and it was unusual. “Well, I'd have to look into it some more but there's definitely been some spending,” he said. “I'm going to go out and talk to the people at the shops she used it in and get back to you, okay?”

He hung up and yawned. It was around 10am, so not too late, but Scarlett had sounded like she had been up for hours. For all he knew, she probably had been. Maybe she hadn't slept at all.

Law pushed all his thoughts about his client out of his head for the moment and got up to get a change of clothes and maybe some food. When you drank a lot you also had to eat at least a little.

  


A while later he set out, the sun still blinding him, but he didn't want to look even weirder by wearing sunglasses in October. He went into the first shop, an expensive lingerie store, armed with his scarf around his neck and a photo of Rebecca in his hands.

“Hey, excuse me,” he said to the employee behind the counter, “do you recognize this woman? I'm a private investigator, she might be involved in a kidnapping.”

She looked at him with wide eyes, then nodded. “Yes, she was here a few days ago. Wanted to buy something nice for her anniversary with her partner.”

He did the same thing in the men's wear store a few blocks down. The same answer, except here the purchase was meant as a present. Not that lingerie couldn't be a present for a man, but Law assumed that it had been for Rebecca to wear. And with every shop he went into his uneasiness rose, like something was out of place, or too familiar. He couldn't tell exactly.

Finally his feet led him to the last stop, a restaurant where she had paid a horrendous sum for dinner. When he turned onto the street something made the hairs on his neck stand up, a faint feeling of déjà vu. And that was never good.

The restaurant was Japanese but the sight of the doorway still made him stop short. “Fuck,” he mumbled. This had to be a coincidence. It was a different restaurant. It had to be. He steeled himself, rolling back his shoulders, and entered the restaurant.

He hadn't had much chance to look around by the time he was spotted already. “Hi, what can I do for you?”

“I'm...” It took a second for him to find himself, to find the right words. This was the same location, his memory wasn't betraying him. “Did this use to be Minutes sur mer?”

The man blinked at him. “Yes, we only opened a few months ago. Why?”

Law took out the photo again. “Have you seen this woman?”

“Yes.” The man's face darkened at the sight of Rebecca's face. “May I ask who you are? I'm not really looking for any more trouble.”

“More trouble?” Law asked. So she had been here and it had been conspicuous beyond the anniversary. Troubling, even.

“Her... companion, he wanted a table in the back and there were people already seated there,” the man started, looking to the side with an expression as if he was having trouble remembering. “He just... I don't know what happened but he told me to make them leave and I _did_. I didn't want to but...”

Law felt the cold creep up his spine, chilling him to the very core. He took a step forward as if on autopilot, barely listening to the man anymore, registering the words somewhere in the back of his head. The back of the restaurant looked different now but the basic layout was the same, the table in the same spot and Law could see the old lighting in front of his eyes, could smell the sauce, could feel the eyes on him.

This wasn't possible.

“Then he wanted a special dish we didn't serve and he... made our chef call the retired chef of Minutes sur mer and get the recipe from him. Who does that? Why would you come to a Japanese restaurant to eat-”

“Escargot the Bourgogne,” Law weakly finished for him.

“Do you know him?” the man gasped and Law turned around, looking around the room wildly, as if he was still here, as if he would step out of the shadows right in the next moment. Yes, he knew him. And god, how much he wished he didn't.

“Who eats a traditional French starter as main dish, anyway. That guy was weird... and creepy...”

Law ignored the man, almost running towards the exit. He needed to get out. He needed to get out of the city, out of the country.

“Dove Street,” he whispered while stumbling down the sidewalk, his hands outstretched like he was begging for mercy, “Argent Way-” But he gave up after the second one. It wasn't going to help him this time. Nothing was going to help.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Scarlett's number.

“Hello?” she said but before she even could get another word in Law cut her off.

“Who referred you?” he asked, sharply.

“What?” she asked, bewildered.

“The officer who told you to go to me, what was their name?” How hard could it be to answer a single question like this.

“It... it wasn't someone who worked there,” she said, only seeming to remember now. “Odd guy, weird accent. His suit was pink, for some reason, and he was wearing sunglasses inside.”

Law wanted to scream. “You need to leave the city,” he said, his pulse loud in his ears. He didn't even know if his words were coherent. “You need to get out of here and not come back.”

“What?! What about Rebecca?” She didn't even sound angry, just desperate. And Law hated himself for not being able to do more. For having to tell her that her daughter was lost.

Law ground his teeth together. He didn't have time for this. “There's nothing you can do. This is too big for you – for anyone. The man who took her he's... he's too powerful. I can't help you.” Then he hung up. He hoped she would actually do what he had said.

He stared at his phone for a while, not sure if what he was about to do was the right decision. But there was no way there was enough money in his bank account to get an intercontinental flight in the next few hours. And Corazón had to know. Corazón had to flee, too.

  


Which is how he wound up in front of Corazón's front door, out of breath, his heart beating rapidly and his hair matted with sweat. He rang the doorbell, then knocked. There was no time to waste, no time to wait.

Corazón opened the door in workout clothes, staring at Law in disbelief for a moment before his expression warped into concern.

“What's wrong?” he asked, opening the door a little wider.

Everyone kept asking him that and everything was wrong. They didn't want to know the answer because either they wouldn't believe or it would put their lives in even more disarray and horror. But Law stepped inside, simply for the illusion of safety. Corazón's place was probably the apartment with the best security system and steel-enforced doors in the city. Measures to buy time, if anything.

“I need money,” he said, nothing else, because there was nothing else he could say.

“What? What for?” Corazón frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I haven't actually seen your face in months and now you show up here and ask for money?” God, he wasn't going to make this easy.

“I need to get out of here,” Law said. He was growing impatient but he couldn't keep this from Corazón. From everyone else, maybe, but not him. “You... you should go to.”

“What are you talking about? You know I can't just _leave_.” Yes, of course, the successful Rosinante, darling of New York City, the sweetheart of the press. Their foster father's favorite.

Law took a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what he was about to say. “He's back.”

Corazón stared at him. Law could see his lips forming the question, the confused 'What', before his mouth fell slack. “Law, no...”

“ _L_ _isten_ to me,” Law said, desperate. Why wasn't he believing him? “I know what you're going to say. He's dead, we have proof, but _do we_? We never saw a body. Papers can be forged, we both know that better than anyone.”

“Law,” Corazón repeated. “Please. This is your PTSD talking. Your imagination...”

“I'm _not_ imagining this!” Law exclaimed. “Please, just listen.” He knew what this looked like, his hands shaking, his entire body probably so wound up that he looked like he was on the brink of a nervous breakdown. But he needed Corazón to listen to him. “This girl's mom hired me to find her daughter and it's him who took her– I know it is! He's doing the entire same thing again. He took her to the _restaurant_. He's back, Cora.”

Corazón looked at Law for a too long moment. “We should call Sengoku,” he said then and Law exhaled in relief. At least he finally believed him.

“That won't work,” he said, shaking his head. “You know there's nothing he can do. Not him, not anyone he knows. He's too big.”

“Yeah, I fucking know,” Corazón snapped. “God, I know.” He took a few steps back. “I'll get your money, alright? But I can't come with you. I need to... I need to wrap some things up here.”

Law looked at him and felt something that was dangerously close to betrayal, to fear of loss. “Okay,” he simply said.

Corazón started walking towards his bedroom when he stopped short. “What about the girl?” he asked, turning around.

“There's nothing I can do for her,” Law said. There wasn't. There was no way he could get them both out unscathed. He didn't even know where she was.

“Law,” Corazón said softly. “She doesn't deserve this. Look at us. Look at the fear we live in because we had to experience this. We have to at least try to get her out of there.”

Law bit the inside of his cheek. “No,” he said, resolutely. Not a chance.

“Fine,” Corazón said, “fine.” Law could hear the disagreement in his voice but he seemed to have given in anyway, vanished into his room, emerging a few seconds later to press a wad of cash into Law's hands. “Take care, okay? Let me know where you end up.”

Then Corazón hugged him and for a moment Law just stood here, his arms hanging at his sides, his body rigid. But eventually he brought up his hands and put them on Corazón's back for a moment. “I will,” he mumbled, before Corazón stepped back and Law was free. Then, barely audible: “Thank you.”

He left.

  


He only went back to his flat for the most important things – some clothes, his passport, his Laptop – then he was out of the door again towards the waiting taxi on the street. For a moment he hesitated in front of Bepo's door, wondered if he should let him know that he was leaving, give him back the key he was holding in his hand, but he decided it was too much of a risk, would take too long to explain, or not explain, things now. So he just stuffed they key into his jeans pocket and kept walking, his bag slung tightly over his shoulder.

Maybe if he ran far enough he would finally be free. Staying in the city had evidently not been the right decision.

  


His heart only started beating faster once he was in the taxi. The walls seemed to press in on him but he knew he had to get out of the city, so he pressed his head to the cold glass of the window and watched the passing lights of his home, felt the vibrations of the engine in his skull and wondered if it would be enough.

An illuminated sign for a hotel rushed past and Law felt a memory tug at his mind.

The front of a different hotel showed up in front of his eyes and he blinked away the illusion. What if he was holding Rebecca in the same place? He was a creature of habit, awful, cruel habit.

“Shit,” he breathed, his breath fogging up the window, and sat up. Corazón had been right and Law hated it. Why was Corazón always right? “Hey, can we make a stop at the Colosseum Hotel?” he asked the driver and got an affirmative grunt. At least he made no fuss and turned at the next light, leading them down a route Law remembered all too well.

His hands had started shaking harder again but his spur of the moment change of mind had to stay. He didn't know why, but the way Corazón believed in things was infectious. Or maybe he had just made Law feel guilty – either way he was on the path now that his brother would have taken, not him.

The hotel came too soon. Law needed two tries to open the taxi's door but he finally managed it, stepping out onto the sidewalk and breathing in the fresh air.

He was really about to do this.

His first steps towards the entrance were shaky and hesitant but somehow the idling taxi behind him gave him strength. The man would wait there for a while and if he managed to get out of this building again, he would be able to get away quickly.

Of course the fucking doorman had to recognize him. “Oh, Mister Trafalgar,” he said, seeming genuinely surprised and even _happy_ to see him, “I haven't seen you in a while. Are you going to be staying with us again?”

Law ignored him. He barely remembered the man and he had difficulty focusing his breathing. He walked past the man through the door he was holding open and stepped into a familiar hotel lobby that he would rather never have seen again.

  


The elevator ride started filling his ears with a ringing that even the hardest shake of his head couldn't get rid off and when the doors opened Law feared he would be standing right in front of him, his hands outstretched in that mocking gesture of his.

But the hallway in front of him was empty and after taking another less than steady breath Law stepped out onto the carpet, slowly walking towards the door at the end of the hall. All his hairs stood on end, his hands shaking so violently at his sides that he had to press them into fists.

He couldn't just walk into the hotel room. It would be suicide.

His eyes caught on the switch for the fire alarm to his right. Of course. It would lure him out if he was here, because self-preservation had always been his top priority – and it would get rid of any other people on the floor who could prove to be either foes or collateral damage. He slowly uncurled his hand, flexed it a little and then reached out for the switch.

The alarm was blaring and for a second Law had the urge to cover his ears with his hands. It didn't vanish entirely but he just frowned and hovered in the hallway while doors flew open and concerned, chattering inhabitants of the hotel hurried past him.

He waited for a few long, drawn out minutes but the door to the suite at the end of the hall stayed closed.

Law sighed and put himself into motion. Somehow the world seemed to close in on him the further he walked towards it. Objectively he knew that the walls were not coming closer and that there was no menacing presence behind him but the whispering in his ear told him otherwise.

The door was locked, of course, but a whispered word and a twitching gesture of his right hand took care of it. He hadn't done this in a long while but it wasn't something you unlearned easily. His powers were a sickening part of him.

The suite behind the door was silent but that didn't make it less daunting. Law crept through the first room, the silence hanging thick around him like a blanket, peering into dark corner and behind doors but it was empty. He approached the bedroom with rising dread in his stomach and slowly pushed open the door.

Rebecca was lying on the bed, alone, and didn't seem to notice Law entering.

Law had almost expected someone to be here, to make this harder, but then again him showing up so soon might not have been the expectation. The suite was empty, except for the slim girl in the bed, dwarfed against the pillows. And he didn't need anyone to keep a girl locked up in his hotel room. His powers took care of that.

“Where is he?” he asked, breathlessly, but Rebecca didn't answer. Law stepped closer to the bed, examined the way the girl had her head turned way from him, staring at the digital clock. “Rebecca,” he said, softer now, but with urgency. “Where is Doflamingo? How long has he been gone?”

She kept staring at the clock but Law could see her right hand twitch. “Five hours and thirty-four minutes,” she then said, barely audible. “He didn't say where he'd go. But that he'd be back soon. How soon is soon?”

“We need to get out of here,” Law said, looking around for some clothes she could put on and take with her. He grabbed the bag that was lying on a chair and started stuffing the few clothes he saw inside.

“No,” she mumbled, sounding far away in her thoughts and Law stopped in what he was doing, horrified realization dawning on him. “I can't.”

“He told you not to move,” he said, a coat in his hands, stretching the thick material between his fingers. That sick bastard.

She finally looked at him and he could see in the look in her eyes that she had stopped struggling hours, maybe days ago. He released his grip on the coat before he ripped it and stepped closer to the bed. “I'm really sorry,” he said while reaching out for her, “but we don't have time.”

Rebecca let out a wailing noise and scooted backwards. “No!” she shouted. “I can't!”

“I'm sorry,” Law repeated. He grit his teeth and leaned forward, gripping her by the shoulders. He hated that he had to do this, but there was no way she was going to get out of this bed on her own – even if she wanted to.

“Let me go!” she screamed and Law almost did, had to bite his lip and gather every bit of determination he had. She was desperate and she didn't want to get hurt, but she also couldn't stay here. “Let me go!”

He had to manhandle her out of the bed, with her fighting him for every centimeter, clawing at his skin with her short nails and kicking against his body. “We can do this,” he said, more to himself than to her and finally pulled her into an upright position, had to hold her up with her straining against his grip while he grabbed the coat and tried to wrangle her arms into it.

“I can't leave!” she yelled.

Law pulled her towards the door. “You _can_ ,” he said. “I know it doesn't feel like it but you can.”

She tore herself from his grip and wanted to jump back onto the bed but he caught her mid-motion, throwing her over his shoulder. His mind started an internal _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ litany while he left the room with her kicking his back and his thoughts pounding against the walls of his mind.

“Rebecca, _please_ ,” he groaned when she grabbed onto the door frame, “I can help you!” He didn't even know if it was true, didn't know if he could really help her.

Her objections had progressed into wordless howling now as she scrabbled at the door frame again and he wrenched her hands away. When he turned back to keep walking she hit her head on the wood, suddenly going slack in his grip.

“Shit,” he mumbled and debated putting her down for a moment to check on her properly but he could still feel her breathing on his back so he kept walking. They didn't have _time_.

Still, he didn't feel like he was saving her when he walked out of the suite and down the deserted hallway where the fire alarm was still blaring. He was getting her out, sure, but carrying an unconscious girl out of a hotel didn't make him a savior. He was kidnapping her just the same as Doflamingo had.

  


  


The taxi was still waiting when Law got out onto the street and he hurried over, struggling to open the door to put Rebecca inside and then climb onto the backseat himself. He was thankful for taxi drivers' ignorance and ability not to ask questions. Maybe the man thought he had just gotten Rebecca out of there while she had been asleep, the alarm still audible on the street, or maybe he didn't care that a grown man had just put a knocked out woman clad in nothing but her underwear and a coat into his car – either way Law was grateful for the silence when they started driving again. Back towards his flat.

He fumbled his phone out of his pocket with some effort and dialed Rebecca's mother's number.

“I found Rebecca,” he said when she picked up, not letting her get a word in. “Meet me back at my flat as soon as you can.”

He hung up again, ignoring Scarlett's exclamations, and let his head fall against the headrest.

It only occurred to him then – Rebecca leaning against him and breathing softly while his heartbeat gradually slowed down to a normal level – that this had been the first time he had said Doflamingo's name since that first therapy session Sengoku and Corazón had made him go to.

  


Rebecca was still not awake when they got to Law's building but he managed to carry her inside without attracting any attention – tipping the taxi driver generously in the process.

Once they were finally inside his flat he put her down on the couch gently, dragging his chair across the room to sit down next to her. Part of him wanted her to wait to regain consciousness until her mother got here, but the former med student in him was getting concerned about the amount of time she hadn't been responsive.

Her pulse and breathing were normal though and there were no visible injuries on her head except for a small bump – which was to be expected after the force with which she had hit the door frame.

Finally her eyes started fluttering open though and she almost immediately shot up, without even orientating herself, to look wildly at Law.

“Where am I?” she asked hoarsely. “Where did you take me?”

“You're somewhere safe,” he said, truthfully. At least he hoped that it was the truth. “I know it's hard to believe but I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Trafalgar Law, I'm a private investigator and was hired by your mother.”

She eyed him with suspicion, her hands rubbing over her arms and coming to lie on the blanket pooled in her lap that he had draped over her earlier. Her gaze fell to her hands and she grabbed the blanket with shaking fingers.

“I... oh god...,” she choked out. “I don't...”

“Hey,” Law said, sliding off his chair to crouch in front of her – trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. “Listen, it's okay. You're okay.”

She didn't seem to be hearing him, her breath speeding up until she was almost hyperventilating.

“Rebecca!” Law said loudly, trying to get a response out of her without touching her. “What street did you live on as a kid?” It was the first thing he had been able to think of to get her out of this state. It worked on him, it seemed to work on a lot of the people some of the quacks he had had to deal with treated, so it should work on her too.

“What?” she whispered.

“The street you lived on as a kid,” he repeated. “What was the name?”

“The...,” she hesitated. “Sunflower... Sunflower Street.”

“Alright,” he said, nodding, watching her come back to her senses, “and the next block over?”

“King's Drive,” she said, a small crack in her voice. “Why?”

He shrugged, rocking back onto his heels. “It's a method in treating PTSD. Helps getting you out of flashbacks and panic attacks. It kind of anchors you in reality, I think.”

She didn't say anything to that but he could see that she had calmed down.

“Rebecca, you know none of this is your fault, right? The things that he does, they leave you without a choice.”

She shook her head. “You don't understand...”

“I do,” he said, fear gripping at his heart and throat but he swallowed and fought it down. “I do know. I understand, believe me. What Doflamingo did to you wasn't your fault.”

Finally she raised her eyes to look at him. “How do you know?” she asked and Law sighed, closed his own eyes for a second.

“Because I've been in the exact same position you are now,” he then confessed. “But it wasn't my fault. And it isn't yours either.” Just because he still felt the guilt didn't mean she would have to.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, her hands shaking on the blanket, wordless.

“I want to hear you say it,” he said, patiently. “It'll make it feel more like reality.” Words were powerful – and they could help you get that power back for yourself.

It was silent for a few beats, then Rebecca took a deep breath. “It's-,” she said, cutting herself off. Law nodded slightly. “It's not my fault.”

“Good.”

“It's not my fault,” she repeated, stronger, more confident.

Law almost smiled – but only almost. But he did feel a little relieved. Maybe she would get better, maybe she would be able to get over this. After a moment he took a half-forgotten glass of water from the floor and held it out to her. “You were out for a while but you should be alright. His string's snap eventually – in the good way,” he said and got up. “I'm going to get you something to wear, if that's alright?”

She nodded weakly, bringing up the water to her lips to take a sip and he left his office to go into his bedroom and dig into his closet for some old clothes – nothing would actually be small enough for her to wear, he was pretty sure, but he knew he had some old sweatpants that had gone in in the wash years ago that should at least not fall off her small frame.

He brought her the sweatpants and a t-shirt, exchanging them for the now empty glass, and then stood there for a moment, awkwardly. “I'm sorry I don't have shoes,” he said and that almost startled a laugh out of her. “But maybe your mother brought an extra pair, you two seem to be about the same size.”

“My mother,” she echoed, turning the bundle of clothes in her hands and suddenly Law could see tears in her eyes. “Oh god, my _mom_.”

“It's fine,” Law said, “she'll be here soon and you'll get to go home.” He turned to bring the empty glass back into the kitchen. “The bathroom is down the hall if you want to... change.” 'Get dressed', was what he had wanted to say but he didn't feel like it was appropriate.

There was no answer but he heard the bathroom door close a few seconds later and he set the glass down in the sink with a relieved sigh.

  


  


Scarlett arrived fifteen minutes later and when Law let her into the office Rebecca was already on her feet, flying into her mother's arms.

“Mom!” she cried and Law felt extremely out of place in his own apartment. This wasn't usually what he got to see during his work hours.

“Rebecca...” Scarlett sounded like she was crying herself and Law had to turn away.

“I'm so sorry,” Rebecca said.

“Shh, it's alright, it's alright.”

Law took a deep but shaky breath. “You should take her and leave. Leave the city, go back home. Right now.”

They both turned to look at him, Scarlett putting a protective arm around her daughter. “But, why...”

“Listen, I don't have a lot of time to explain but the man who took Rebecca is extremely powerful. You can get her out, though. She's not his main goal. You should go, _now_.”

“What about you?” Rebecca asked, bless the child, and Law grimaced.

“I'll be right behind you,” he said. And he would be. Because he still had to flee, too.

  


While he grabbed his bag again and then closed the door to his flat behind him – he looked at it for a moment and wondered if he would ever see it again – Rebecca and her mother walked to the elevator.

He watched them and decided to take the stairs, let them have a moment to themselves, but Rebecca's movement caught his eye. Her hand disappeared into her bag for a moment just as the elevator doors started closing, and when she took it back out she held a gun. She turned her head and Law saw her lips form the beginning of a smile.

“No!” Law screamed, breaking into a sprint, but the doors closed a moment too soon, making him collide with the cold metal in the same second the first shot sounded. He took a step back, maybe he could force open the doors, cut them open... He shook his head and turned, running towards the stairwell. He didn't have time, the elevator was already in motion and too far down.

He ran down the stairs, skipping three steps at a time with the blood rushing in his head and gunshots ringing in his ears and by the time he reached the last landing he knew he wouldn't make it. He still threw open the door, almost tearing it off its hinges and lunged through the hall towards the elevators, heard the faint noise of it arriving.

The doors opened and as Law lurched forward he only heard the clicking of Rebecca pulling the trigger over and over despite the empty magazine. Scarlett was lying on the ground, motionless, not breathing and riddled with so many bullets that Law knew that he couldn't help her, no one would be able to help her anymore.

Then she turned towards him, again, stopped in her motions and cocked her head slightly. “Smile,” she said.

Law had to grip onto the wall to try and steady himself as she dropped the gun and a wave ran through her body.

A moment later she was screaming, looking at her hands and the blood on the floor and backing away into the other corner of the elevator and screaming, screaming, screaming–

Law turned around and walked away, slowly, his feet carrying towards the exit while Rebecca screamed for her mother. But before he reached it he saw Bepo through the glass of the doors, opening the one on the left.

“Don't,” Law said weakly. “Don't look.”

Bepo stared at him, wide-eyed, and Law realized how terrible he had to look. “Look at what?” Then he looked past Law, at the opened elevator doors, at Rebecca, at Scarlett and his eyes grew – impossibly – even wider.

“She's been shot in the head,” Law said, to the air, to no one, “there's nothing anyone can do.” There's nothing he could have done, even with his powers, even if he had wanted to use them. She had been dead before the elevator reached the ground floor.

“I'm going to call the police,” Bepo said but it didn't even register with Law; now that Bepo had _seen_ there was nothing Law could do to protect him. He needed to go.

He was going to walk until he found a taxi, call Corazón, make him come, too. It was bad. It would get even worse.

“Law!” he heard Bepo's voice behind him and he stopped, didn't turn, didn't look at him. “What are you going to do?”

What was he supposed to do? He couldn't fix this. He wasn't someone who fixed situations, that much was clear. All he could do was kill, destroy and run away. Ironically, those were the things we was good at.

_Fuck._

What was he going to do?

Corazón's words, so mocking and dark now, sounded in his ears again. _She doesn't deserve this._

He had been right, she didn't. And now it was too goddamn late and Law had fucked up everything again because he had run into the trap without looking, without thinking. Had been orchestrated once again against his will.

Anger flared up in his chest and he gripped the strap of his bag. He turned around and saw Bepo standing there with fear in his eyes and he knew that he couldn't keep running away. No amount of running would fix this. And Rebecca didn't deserve this. She had been dragged into this to lure him out, to bait him and play with him. She hadn't even been a pawn in his game – just fodder for the pawns' swine to eat.

Maybe he wasn't going to be able to fix anything, but he had to try.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about substituting the "Smile" calling card with something else because I didn't want to take away from the misogynistic meaning in the original show but nothing else fit as well and Doflamingo also has the entire Smile thing going on there so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, friends! I come bearing the gift of the first _actual_ LawLu interaction in this chapter.
> 
> I hope you all are having/had nice holidays!

 

Law didn't know how to make other people feel better. Hell, he could barely control his own feelings.

Sitting next to Bepo at the police station felt terrible – but he had no other choice, the poor kid was still shaking all over and they had both been taken in for questioning.

Law refrained from apologizing again, he knew Bepo didn't want to hear it and the police wanted to hear it too much. Instead he wordlessly kept his eyes on the younger man who was clinging to his bottle of water like it was a lifeline and hoped that in a few months he would be able to forget what he had seen.

“I'm sorry,” Bepo said quietly and Law flinched a little.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said.

“You told me not to look,” Bepo whispered.

Law sighed. “Yeah, but it would have been really hard not to.”

There was another few moments of silence before Bepo spoke up again. “I'm glad you turned around.”

Law wasn't glad, but he understood. Leaving Bepo alone there would have made it even worse. And Rebecca... And if Law was honest, this way he didn't have the police looking for him in a murder investigation on top of running from a homicidal maniac. Instead he was sitting in the station, trying to comfort another witness, and waiting his turn to be interviewed. Interrogated. He hated working with the police.

 

A man stopped in front of them and peered down at them quizzically, a cigar perched between his lips. Law wondered if it was decorative or if he was just so high up in the food chain that he could smoke in a police building.

“Trafalgar Law?” the man asked and Law got up with another, almost inaudible, sigh.

“That's me.”

“Captain Smoker,” the man finally introduced himself which explained the cigar. Law could barely hold back a snort. “Follow me, please?”

At least they hadn't made him wait alone in a room. Law doubted he would've stayed very calm then. The entire station made him uneasy.

Smoker led him to an interrogation room and they took seats across from each other. Law really wasn't looking forward to recounting what had happened earlier – especially since he still wasn't entirely sure what he was going to say yet. Telling the police about Doflamingo and his powers would have no effect – it would probably just put the entire thing in an even worse light. But what else was there than the truth? Doflamingo had had no blackmailing leverage on Rebecca, he had just taken her and put her under his will – it was the ugly, simple truth.

“What a day...,” Smoker mumbled and Law almost rolled his eyes. He didn't have the time or strength for this.

“Listen,” he said, “I don't know what I can tell you, really. I was hired by Rebecca's mother to find her, got the kid out of a bad situation, I'm in shock...”

He knew it didn't sound believable – mostly because he was delivering it with the most bored voice he could muster – but it was also not very far from the truth.

Smoker leaned forward, frowning at him. “How did Riku Scarlett find you?” he asked.

“A referral, apparently,” Law shrugged. A fucking referral, alright. They had been set up. It had all been orchestrated and strung together. Doflamingo had sent her to Law himself, probably couldn't resist the sick satisfaction.

“And how did _you_ find Rebecca?” Smoker pressed on. Law was so sick of it already and they had only just started.

“I don't think there's a big difference in my detective work and yours,” he said, steel in his voice. “I followed the clues, plain and simple. Looked at her credit card statements, talked to shopkeepers. That's it.”

There was a short pause in which Smoker eyed him with something akin to distaste before he spoke again. “At the time of the shooting you were on your way out of the building with an overnight bag.”

Law had known that would come back to bite him in the ass. “Is that a question?” he shot back.

“Where were you going?” There it was.

“Hawaii,” Law said, because it was the first thing that came to mind.

Smoker tapped the desk in disbelief. “What's in Hawaii?”

“Good waves,” Law said sweetly. “Nice beaches. I like surfing. And sometimes my skin needs some... color.” Self-irony, his favorite kind of attack.

“I like beaches,” Smoker said with something close to a smile. Law would have called it creepy, but he knew which effect he himself usually had on people and Smoker was just the same, only older. And he definitely couldn't see the man lying on a beach towel, but to each their own.

Of course Smoker had to turn it around just as quickly though. “Did you know Rebecca was going to kill her mother?” Law almost had to laugh. The attempt to relate to him had come and gone too sudden to have any effect.

“If I did, I would have stopped her,” he said. He had tried, but been too slow.

“Hm,” Smoker made, now leaning back slightly and Law could feel the bomb coming. “So you assumed she was in her right mind?”

Of course he fucking hadn't. She had been so shaken, so traumatized... The perfect cover for the underlying strings. “Clearly she wasn't, or she wouldn't have put those bullets in her mother.”

“Fair enough,” Smoker said. “Any idea why a scholarship student would have an unregistered gun?”

Law shrugged. “Maybe she felt unsafe in this great society,” he said sweetly, “or maybe some asshole gave it to her.” Of course Doflamingo had given it to her, no doubt, and having it unregistered made it impossible to trace it back to him. The ultimate move in pinning the blame on Rebecca.

“Maybe one of these assholes?” Smoker asked and spread out a pile of photos in front of Law. Law only had to take one look to recognize that they were his photos – his photos of multiple targets.

_Well, shit._

“You went through my shit without a search warrant,” he said, sounding resigned but with anger boiling in his gut.

“It's part of the crime scene,” Smoker answered.

“None of these people have anything to do with Rebecca killing her mother,” Law said, growing impatient. This could damage his reputation even further in addition to, well, one of his clients being killed by her own daughter. “These were all from old cases. My clients expect discretion.”

His eyes caught on Monkey D. Luffy's face in some of the pictures and he had to look away. This was going to end badly. He hoped that the police wasn't going to talk to any of these people – and especially Luffy. Because then Law would have to face the fact that he wasn't being paid to check up on Luffy.

“This is bad for business,” he groaned.

Smoker rolled his eyes. “So is a homicide.”

“I'm a licensed PI,” Law said. “You know my paperwork is up to date, I saw it in that file of yours. You can't charge me with anything. So do you have anything else or can I go home and fix up my place that your guys left in shambles without a doubt?”

Smoker didn't say anything to that, only pushed the pictures back into the file. Law got up and left the room without looking at him again.

 

Of course he didn't go home though, instead waiting on the same spot as earlier again. Bepo had been picked up for questioning as well while he had been with Smoker and Law didn't have it in him to just leave the kid to find his own way home after he got out of here.

But that didn't take long, with Bepo being an observant but introverted neighbor who was mostly unrelated to the incident. When he came back Bepo looked even more freaked out than before he had gone in but the officer accompanying him seemed nice enough that Law didn't have to look at her twice.

They took a taxi home, Bepo wringing his hands in his lap the entire time until he could finally get himself to speak.

“Will she be alright? The girl?”

Law had to stop for a minute. Bepo seemed to have picked up on how Rebecca wasn't the one to blame here. Law sighed and turned towards him. “I don't know,” he said, truthfully. “But I'm going to try and help her.”

She wasn't responsible for her mother's death – but no judge, no jury would believe her. No one would believe Law either but he had to at least try. It pained him to admit it, to even think of it, but he had connections in higher places that he could use – even if his own credibility would suffer under it.

“Good,” Bepo mumbled and it was painful for Law to see how affected the kid was by all of this. Bepo was just too kind hearted for the cruel world they lived in. Law almost wanted to say as much. But he didn't.

 

When they got back home they both avoided looking at the elevator with its doors barricaded by the police tape and took the stairs. Bepo mumbled something about a nap before vanishing into his flat, leaving Law standing alone in the corridor staring at his own door. He didn't want to go inside.

He did enter eventually but it felt so wrong. Violated. He couldn't just sit down in his office chair with the memories too fresh, the blanket he had draped over Rebecca still lying on the couch. He needed something familiar and calm in all this madness.

So he did the only thing he could think of and went back to standing on the street corner outside of Luffy's bar. It was kind of fucked up, but it was like an anchor in the storm raging around and inside of him. He clutched his thermos in both of his hands and watched the movement behind the windows, wondering which ones of the frequent customers were there tonight.

Except this time, after a while, the light streaming out from the windows changed from seeming cold and off-putting – keeping him out, always on distance – to warm and inviting. Law felt himself being pulled towards the entrance but kept himself from crossing the street. He couldn't do this. He wasn't going to allow himself to do this.

Then the door opened and before Law could react, Luffy was walking across the street towards him.

“I knew it was you who I'd seen lurking round here,” he said with a grin when he stopped in front of Law, his shorts and the summery strawhat perched on his head providing a contrast to the cold fall air. He didn't seem to feel the wind. “You can come in, you know. Whatever is in that thermos, I bet it tastes better inside.”

Law couldn't protest. Couldn't even say that he hadn't been lurking, because he definitely had. And what was he supposed to say? 'I can't come in, I'm the reason your life is so fucked up right now'? Yeah, good luck with that.

“I don't think I should,” he mumbled anyway, but Luffy had already gripped him around the wrist and was dragging him towards the bar's entrance.

This was definitely something Law should have seen coming. He scolded himself for his lack of foresight while Luffy pushed the doors open with his foot, and panic rose in his throat.

“Welcome to the Thousand Sunny,” Luffy declared happily, finally releasing Law's grip and turning around to face him with a grin.

“That's a weird name for a bar,” was the only thing Law could think of and choke out.

Luffy's face fell slightly and there was a low whistle from the direction of the counter.

“Ohh, I wouldn't say that if I was you,” said a young man with green hair half-hidden under a beanie who seemed to be nursing a beer. “Rule number one of the Sunny: Don't question the name.”

Law was speechless for a moment before Luffy's laughter cut through the air. “Damn right,” he said. “Torao, this is Zoro, my roommate and occasional part-time barkeeper.”

Zoro raised his glass in a greeting before setting it to his lips and taking a deep gulp. “Currently only here to get free beer,” he then said.

Law raised his eyebrows in confusion. What had Luffy just called him? “Torao?” he echoed but Luffy ignored him in favor of motioning at the women sitting next to Zoro.

“I think you know Robin and you've met Nami, but you were gone really quickly...” he chattered on. “Come on, sit down. You like whiskey, right?”

Law was so perplexed that he did what Luffy said. He felt like he was being pulled into a parallel universe. He settled onto the stool next to Zoro and greeted Nami and Robin.

“This is Chopper,” Luffy said, motioning at the young, somehow fragile looking person next to Nami before pushing a glass towards Law. “They're a doctor.”

Law tried to disguise his startled jerking back by scratching his arm but thankfully no one seemed to have noticed as Chopper frantically waved and shook their head, blushing. “Not yet, not yet,” they said while Luffy and Zoro laughed. “I'm doing my residency right now.”

“But you already have your degree!” Nami added. “Which makes you a doctor.”

Law leaned back in his chair, feeling awkward and out of place and frantically trying to think of something to say. “Chopper doesn't sound like a very reassuring name for a doctor,” he blurted out. It really didn't. Who would feel safe getting treated by someone who sounded like they were going to cut you into pieces? Law couldn't believe the irony of his own thoughts.

Nami gasped, affronted, but everyone else laughed.

“It's a nickname,” Robin explained, “their real name is Tony.” She rested her chin on her hand and fixated Law with her gaze before abruptly changing the topic. “So, you found Rebecca...”

Law winced, his eyes automatically flying to the TV above the bar. It was currently switched off but reminded him of the fact that the murder had made the news – and not left it yet. “I did... yes.” He took the glass Luffy had given him and half-emptied it. There was suddenly silence where there had been laughter before and he couldn't help feeling like it was his fault.

“I can't believe she would do something like this,” Chopper said, sadness painting their voice.

“She didn't,” Law and Luffy said at the same time and Law looked at the younger man in astonishment.

“What makes you think that?” Law asked, investigative instincts taking over. Out of Rebecca's friends he had only really talked to Robin, but everyone seemed to know her extremely well.

Luffy shrugged, moving slightly to the side so he could wash glasses in the small sink. “She just wouldn't,” he said. “She doesn't like hurting people. She's super competitive on the soccer field but I've never seen her commit an unnecessary foul – she avoids some of the necessary ones, even.”

“She took self-defense classes for a while,” Nami cut in. “Her father trained her before he went away and wanted her to continue when she came to the city but she hated it.”

Zoro nodded. “She really did. I tried training with her but all she did was dodge – she was really good at that though.”

“But are you saying that she didn't kill her mother?” Nami frowned. “Because I'm pretty sure all the evidence is against her there.”

Law sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “No, she... she did pull the trigger but...” There was really no other way to say this so he stared at the bar and steeled his shoulders. “She didn't want to.”

“She was _forced_?” Chopper squeaked. “Was there someone else there?”

“It was that man, wasn't it?” Robin asked and Law grimaced.

What was he supposed to say? He couldn't tell a group of people he barely knew that there was an evil asshole with mind-control powers on the loose. Luffy would probably kick him out of the bar – but he should probably do that anyway. “Well, yes,” Law finally mumbled.

“But how?” Nami asked, frowning. “She's pretty headstrong, she doesn't just do whatever you tell her to...”

Law fidgeted slightly, avoiding their eyes. He couldn't answer this.

“We're going to help you,” Luffy suddenly cut in and Law's head snapped up.

Zoro nodded. “Yes! There has to be evidence and if there's none, well, then we'll just bring the douchebag in ourselves.”

“You can't,” Law said, gritting his teeth and shaking his head. There was no way this group of young, innocent people would be able to withstand.

He should lie. Tell them Doflamingo had had leverage on Rebecca from her past, was blackmailing her, had brainwashed her into seeing her mother as a threat. The last one was as close to the truth as it would get. But these were Rebecca's friends and maybe they deserved the full truth. Even if they wouldn't believe it.

Law took a deep breath. “He made her do it,” he said, “the man who took her, he can- he can control minds. There's no way you can just... defeat him.”

“God fucking dammit,” Zoro groaned and Law closed his eyes for a second in expectation of the rebuttals.

“That's the worst power I've ever heard of,” Nami mumbled and Law's eyes shot open again. It had sounded sincere. “And I've seen some shitty stuff.”

“What?” he croaked.

Robin looked at him with bright, knowing eyes. “You thought we wouldn't believe you.”

“Well, yeah,” he said, slightly shaking his head, “not a lot of people do.”

“Because most of them don't have powers themselves,” Zoro shrugged, “or they've never met anyone who does. Or they're just in denial. That happens a lot.”

“Just because it's my reality doesn't mean it has to match yours, I guess,” Law said.

Chopper snorted and it sounded weirdly high-pitched. “It does match ours a lot, I'd say.”

“Which one of you wants to do the honors?” Nami asked, grinning at the others and Law's eyes widened in realization.

He had been standing outside this bar night after night for months without knowing a thing.

Luffy let out a laugh and pulled his hands out of the soapy water. “It's my bar, I get to freak him out.”

Law looked from one to the other in growing disbelief. There was no way this could be real. But before he could sort his thoughts in his head Luffy stretched his arm – and kept stretching. Law watched in astonishment as Luffy's arm grew in length, until he could grab an empty glass from a table at the other end of the room, and then snapped back to its original size.

Luffy turned to grin at Law with the glass securely gripped in his hand while Zoro snorted into his beer. “You should see your face, man.”

“That's a peculiar power,” Law said and he felt something stir in him that he hadn't felt in a long time – excitement. He hadn't met any other Devil Fruit users in so long this felt too foreign to him.

Robin chuckled. “It certainly comes in handy.”

“Nuh uh,” Nami made, a mischievous smile splitting her face. “ _Your_ power is what comes in handy.”

Law didn't think it could get more surreal than this. “Do you all have powers?” he asked.

“We don't,” Nami said, motioning at Zoro and her. “But we've... adjusted.”

Suddenly a hand sprouted from the wood of the bar, raising Law's glass towards him and he jerked back so hastily he almost fell from his chair. The others laughed.

“I'm sorry,” Robin giggled but sobered up quickly, “I didn't mean to startle you.”

It took Law a moment to gather his bearings. “It's alright,” he mumbled, still staring at the hand. Then he turned his head to look at Chopper in suspicion. “What's your power?”

“Um...” Chopper looked at Nami like they were afraid to do something wrong.

“You don't have to show me,” Law backpedaled quickly. He really didn't need to pressure people into things when he had to do that daily on his job. It wasn't a necessity for him to know every single detail about everyone.

“No, it's fine,” Chopper said, sliding from their stool. “It's just a little different from what Nami and Luffy can do.” There was a slight pause where they fidgeted with their hands before looking up. “I'm not technically human.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “Okay,” he said diplomatically but Chopper had already taken a deep breath.

For a moment they seemed to shrink but Law realized quickly that it was their bone structure changing, their arms lengthening and hands transforming and after a second Law could see fur sprouting from their skin before they fell to all fours.

He hadn't seen powers like this often – then again he didn't know many Devil Fruit users – but was pretty sure they were called Zoan types. People who could transform into animals.

Or animals who could transform into humans, apparently, if he was interpreting Chopper's statement correctly. That had to be one of a kind.

“Wow,” he couldn't help but mumble when Chopper's transformation was complete and they were standing in front of him as a fully grown reindeer.

Chopper shook their head slightly, the movement traveling down their neck.

“It's a sight to behold, isn't it?” Robin asked and Law could only nod.

Luffy had at some point in the whole affair hopped up onto the counter and was squatting there with a wide grin on his face. “I used to call them a werehuman,” he said.

“Until we finally convinced him that calling someone _manhuman_ is just plain senseless,” Zoro added.

“So this is your natural form?” Law asked.

Chopper nodded. “Natural, original, whatever you want to call it.” The voice coming out of a reindeer was still kind of a shock to Law, even though it had to be expected. He felt like he was overloading on info.

Law rubbed his temples. “How are you all so nonchalant about it?” he asked and Luffy looked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean?” he asked, bewilderment obvious in his voice. “These powers have been a part of us since we were children and it's not like we can help it. They're part of us just as much as our noses.”

“We usually keep them a secret, though,” Robin added. “Luffy is probably the one who has the most people know about his powers, but no one really cares.”

“To be fair most of them are drunk when they see him do his thing,” Nami said, “so they think they're just hallucinating.”

“So,” Zoro said, leaning back and pulling his beanie off his head, “do you still think we can't help?”

Law downed the rest of his whiskey in an attempt to anchor himself in reality. “This... might make it easier,” he admitted. He still didn't want to drag completely unrelated people into this but he was too dazed to argue his point right now. He'd never met so many people with Devil Fruit ability at once.

“So, Trafalgar Law,” Robin said, “what's your ability?”

Law felt a shiver creep up his spine. He had said nothing to give himself away, he was sure of that. “Why do you think I have any?”

“Am I wrong?” she asked, a small smile on her face. Law wondered how she had gotten so perceptive – but maybe a lifetime of being on your toes would do that to you, and it seemed like she had led her existence like that until coming to meet Luffy and his friends.

“No,” Law sighed. “But I'd... rather not show you my... ability, as you called it.”

“No fair! Luffy called, jumping down from the counter to stand in front of Law with crossed arms. “We showed you ours!”

“Yes, because you _wanted_ to!” Nami scolded him. “If he's not comfortable using or controlling his powers it's not your place to demand anything.”

Law sighed in gratitude. Nami had postponed his doom for a while.

“I should leave,” he mumbled. He shouldn't even be here in the first place and he was tired beyond exhaustion.

“Aww, already?” Luffy pouted. “We haven't even thought about a battle strategy yet!”

Law almost groaned. “There is no strategy – or a battle, for that matter. I'm going to talk to Rebecca tomorrow, or whenever they allow me to see her. I'm going to keep you guys updated, alright?” Anything else would not work out for him, most likely. He didn't even know what he was going to do yet, what he _could_ do, but from the looks of this little gang they might terrorize him until he let them join the case.

He got up, suddenly driven by the need to leave that had been lurking in the back of his head during the entire conversation. Letting himself be dragged inside by Luffy had been a mistake and Law could feel the tremors in his hands picking up again.

He left without saying a proper goodbye and could feel their eyes on his back.

 

 

The way home was miserable, the entire encounter playing over and over again in Law's head. For some reason what he focused on was Chopper.

Chopper was younger than him and in their fucking _residency_. And Law could have gotten there, too, if his life hadn't been so spectacularly fucked up.

He suddenly felt very young again, catapulted back to being 15 years old and lying in the dark with the sharp sting of tears in the corners of his eye, and he hated himself just as much as he had back then. He didn't need to feel so fragile again but that didn't change that he _did_. Like he would break any moment. What a ridiculous notion.

 

What Law didn't expect was to come face to face with Corazón when he stepped out of the taxi in front of his apartment building.

“Where have you been?” Corazón demanded, stepping right into Law's space and making him stumble back. “I texted, I called. You could have been _dead_!”

He really didn't need this right now. “The police station,” he answered truthfully through his gritted teeth. “A bar...”

Corazón scoffed. “You could get a drink but you couldn't tell me that you got the girl out and she killed her mother? I had to see it on the news, Law!”

“I was busy,” Law snapped back.

“You wanted to leave!” Corazón frowned. “But you're still here... I'm just worried about you.”

“Yes, I did. But that's off the table,” he said and turned on his heel. He really couldn't talk to Corazón right now, no matter how unfair it was.

“And talking to me is off the table, too?” Corazón asked, a world of hurt in his voice and Law bit his lip, stopped walking. “I had a part in this too, you can't just shut me out.”

Law took a shallow breath but didn't turn around. “Fine, come on.” Maybe seeing his mess of a flat would distract Corazón from this guilt trip – not that Law didn't deserve it, but he had bigger things to deal with right now.

 

They walked up the stairs in silence – Law only nodding at Monet, the student who lived a floor above him, in passing – and Corazón waited with his hands in his pocket while Law unlocked his front door.

“Oh,” Corazón made when they entered and Law went straight for his desk. “Um... your place is nice?”

Law snorted, digging in the top drawer for the envelope with the money Corazón had given him. Thank god that had apparently not been of concern for the police. “You think it's terrible.”

“I didn't say that.” Corazón settled in the chair opposite Law's desk.

“We've known each other for almost 15 years,” Law said with an eyeroll while he walked around his desk. “I know the thing your voice does when you try to fake enthusiasm.”

“Fair enough,” Corazón mumbled before accepting the envelope Law was holding out and peering inside. “What's this?”

“Your money,” Law shrugged. He hadn't used it in the end. Hadn't needed it. He didn't need to be stealing from Corazón on top of everything else.

“I'd be insulted but I know how particular you are about depending on people,” Corazón said and Law scoffed. Of course he always managed to hit the nail on the head.

Law shrugged. “I'm staying, so I don't need it.”

Corazón raised his eyebrows. “So what are you going to do about the girl? About Doffy?”

Law flinched. “I thought we weren't going to call him that anymore.”

“Sorry. Old habit.” Corazón scratched his head apologetically and sighed. Law crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was painfully aware of the fact that Corazón and Doflamingo had a lot of history but he had never understood why Corazón couldn't let go of that atrocious nickname – even after he had almost killed him.

“I'm going to prove she's innocent,” Law said finally. “No one else is going to do it.”

“You're not an attorney, no matter what your name says,” Corazón said cautiously.

“I know that,” Law snapped, “but I have to do _something_.”

“You need help with this,” Corazón said. Law groaned. Why did everyone think he needed help? Why did everyone think they _could_ help?

“I don't want to drag more people into this,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie.

“I could try to get into contact with him,” Corazón said. “He might still have a soft spot for me.”

“No way,” Law said, shaking his head and leaning against his desk for support. Even the thought was almost too much. “We both know he has no emotional weaknesses. Not even you.”

“He's my _brother_. I might be the only one who can get through to him,” Corazón objected, annoyance written clearly on his face. “I can find out what he wants.”

“Yes, he's your brother, I know. If anything, that gives him more power over you than over anyone else. That's probably exactly what he wants – one or both of us running back to him without thinking. It's not going to help Rebecca. And you got out. He won't trust you again.” _And I can't let you. You got out alive and that's all I ever wanted._ Law couldn't risk Corazón. The unspoken words hung between them and Law was sure Corazón knew they were there. But maybe he didn't know what they meant.

They looked at each other for a while, Law trying to stare Corazón down without tears rising into his eyes. He had to give this to him. There was no way Law could let this happen again.

“Alright,” Corazón relented. “But you can't break Rebecca out of prison and you can't magically make the evidence work in her favor. You need someone with the skill to do the latter. You could ask Sengoku.”

“No, no way.” Law shook his head vehemently. It wasn't that he hadn't already thought about it – because he had. Sengoku might even believe him. But he was too close to politics still, too close to the entire affair, to be reliable for Law.

Corazón studied him with a knowing look. “Someone else from the firm then.”

“Yeah?” Law spit. “Who? Who's going to believe that someone who can control minds and people is out there and makes them murder innocent parents?”

“You have to try,” Corazón said.

Law deflated. “I know.” He rubbed his forehead. His day was definitely catching up with him and he really needed a drink.

“You could try Tsuru,” Corazón suggested. “Or Fujitora, the new partner. Sengoku says he's good.”

“I'll try,” Law relented. He knew there was really no other way to get Rebecca's record cleared. This was the least he could do.

“Keep me updated, okay?” Corazón asked, getting up and attempting a smile.

“Okay,” Law mumbled. If this was what it took to keep Corazón from going back to Doflamingo Law would do it.

Corazón hesitated before opening the door. “Law, you know you're my brother, too, right? More than he ever was,” he asked, voice smaller than Law had heard it all day and he had to avert his eyes for a moment.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good,” Corazón smiled and then he was gone.

Law hated this. He hated having to put people through his bullshit time and time again without pause or fail. He pushed himself off the desk and went into the kitchen. With luck he still had something strong enough to drink himself into a stupor deep that was enough for him to forget all of this for a few hours.

He had stayed alone for so long and he had wanted to keep it that way but of course Doflamingo had come back to ruin that once again. And Law needed to find out why.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya, happy new year and welcome back :D
> 
> warnings for this chapter include some discussion of suicide/suicidal ideation so heed with caution pls

Law didn't like going to visit people in prison, no matter how rarely he actually did it.

He was pretty sure nobody did – having a constant reminder that the person they were talking to had done terrible things. To him it was just the eerie feeling that he should be locked up in one of these places, too, that he had done terrible things himself. And no jury would be convinced of his innocence. He could have been in Rebecca's place just as easily – but he had gotten lucky.

So when they let him through the doors with that low buzzing sound and he had to sign in, all he wanted to do was walk out again. But he couldn't. He had to see Rebecca.

He approached the door she was waiting behind slowly, his feet dragging and he felt like he had to physically force himself to keep walking. Rebecca was clearly visible through the thick glass window in the door, slightly slumped over in her seat, and the guard next to the door nodded at Law to signal that he could go through.

Law sighed and pushed down the handle, opened the door while taking in a deep breath. He had to do this.

Rebecca didn't look up when he came in but her posture straightened slightly and Law took that as a good sign. He slid into the seat across from her.

“Hey Rebecca,” he said.

She remained silent.

“I know I'm probably the last person you want to see right now, but this isn't the place you're supposed to be right now either. And I want to help you to get out of here.”

She looked away, directed her eyes at the window, out of the window. Where the cold, fake promise of freedom lay.

Law sighed again, his irritation rising. He knew he shouldn't get emotional now. Rebecca was traumatized, scarred, probably exhausted. But this was important. He put his hands on the table, palms facing up.

“You were the last person to see Doflamingo,” he said, trying to keep his voice low and professional. “Did he say anything? Do you know where he's been in the past year? Did he tell you why he's back? What does he _want_?”

Rebecca ignored him.

“Was there anything weird about the way he looked? Any... scars? Where did he take you? Were there any other people he met with?”

Had he picked any of his underground activities back up or was he still lying low? This was important, this was something they could use against him, something substantial that would incriminate him beyond the Devil Fruit powers. But Rebecca didn't say a word.

Law groaned and leaned back. She had to talk to him, otherwise he wouldn't be able to do a thing.

Finally, she turned to look at him. “Are you a good jumper?”

“Why?” Law exhaled. He was sure he knew the answer but it was too scary, too close, too familiar.

“He made me jump as high as I could,” Rebecca said, her voice almost toneless, looking off to the side again. “For hours. I'm decent, I have good muscles in my legs from training every day. But I was never good enough for him. He said I was never as good as you.”

Law swallowed, slowly pulling his arms off the table. “What he did... what he made you do, it's not your fault,” he said, because it was the only thing he could think of that he could still say.

“I know,” she said, her voice raspy staring back at him. “It's yours.”

Law did his best not to flinch at that. He had deserved that. It probably _was_ his fault, at least partially.

“He said you left him there to die. Why didn't you stay and make sure? Why didn't you save me from this before it even began?”

Law stared down at his hands for a second, feeling too guilty to look at Rebecca. For not having made sure that Doflamingo had really died in that accident. For being his favorite plaything. For existing.

“So he's angry,” he mumbled eventually and looked back up. Rebecca nodded. “He wants me to suffer for what I've done.”

Another nod. “Yes, like he suffered.”

There it was, there was the tidbit of information Law needed, a personal thing he could use. “How did he suffer? From the accident? Was he injured? Is he in any way disabled?”

Rebecca shook her head slowly, then faster, like a leaf swept up into a hurricane. Law couldn't tell if she didn't know or couldn't tell him but he could see the tears forming in her eyes. The barrier, the mask of anger she had built up to protect herself was breaking.

“Rebecca, I have to _know_.” Law leaned in. “I have to know so I can make him pay for what he did.”

“No!” she seemed outwardly, burstingly distraught now. “You can't do that! He'll get you, he'll control you too!”

“Rebecca, stop!” Law said, her distress transferring to him too. He wanted to reach out for her, to keep her from scratching off her own hair and skin but he knew the rules about touching and he knew better than risk not being allowed back. “Stop, you're going to hurt yourself!”

“He'll make you do terrible things! You can't!”

“Calm down, Rebecca,” Law said, trying to follow his own advice. “I won't let him, okay? I'm going to find a way.”

Rebecca had her cuffed hands up in front of her chest but her outburst had slowly subsided, instead she was blinking at Law with sad eyes for a moment before she got in the last word. “You should kill yourself.”

Law leaned back, feeling like he had been doused with ice water. His first instinct was to tell her that he had already tried, that he had the hospital records to prove it, but he didn't. “Probably,” he said instead. “But I'm the only one that believes in your innocence. So I need to stay alive and _help you_.” He got up and brushed past the guard, past the nurse who was hurrying into the room to give Rebecca what was undoubtedly some kind of sedative.

Law had gotten his information. But he also felt like he was going to be sick.

 

He didn't actually throw up, this time, but the dread in his gut stayed the entire subway ride to Sengoku's offices.

After quitting politics a few years after taking Corazón and Law in, he had actually done what he had originally studied to do – become a lawyer and be a partner in a firm.

Law was acutely aware that Sengoku was the most powerful person in the firm but he still wasn't going to ask him for favors – no matter how often _he_ was asked for them. He didn't want to be in Sengoku's debt any more than he already was.

So he planned on asking Tsuru – who somehow managed to be more intimidating than Sengoku, but also seemed more approachable. Maybe it had to do with how Law hadn't grown up with her and generally had no problems with asking people he didn't care about for things. They were not his problem and if he knew they had enough power and money to make it happen, they usually didn't care much either.

The doorman knew Law – otherwise he probably would not have let him in, in his ripped jeans and stained jacket – from years of exposure before Law's life had gone completely off the rails. Not that it had ever been a very straight, smooth path either, but at least he had possessed his sanity until a while ago. Law nodded at him and went directly to the elevators.

The doors opened in front of him almost immediately and he pressed the button for the 25th floor. Law tried not to think of the murder that had happened in another elevator very unlike this at the other end of the city just two days ago. The elevator gave a small lurch and then started moving up towards a sprawling office so high up and so close to the borders of the city that the ocean was visible from most rooms. Law already felt once again out of place enough to fiddle with the ragged hem of his shirt. He had never belonged in this world, no matter what Sengoku or Corazón had said. And especially not after what Doflamingo had kept whispering into his ear for _months_.

There was an almost inaudible dinging noise as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened again. Law took a deep breath and then stepped out. He had been here enough times to know that most of the employees would try to politely ignore him. Him and his face and his clothes and his shaking hands.

He turned left and walked through the glass doors that separated him from what he wanted and still so strongly despised. He raised his hand at the secretary to the right because at least the smile she always greeted him with without the thinly veiled pity all the others had in their looks. Maybe it was also the burn scars climbing up her arm that made him sympathize with her.

As if on cue the corners of her mouth turned upwards. “Hey Law, here to see Sengoku?”

“Hello Mocha,” he greeted, then shook his head. “No, Tsuru actually. Had all my business with Sengoku last week.” And what unpleasant business that had been. Law was pretty adamant on not talking to his former foster father unless he had to, mostly because he still made him do things he knew Law couldn't do without drinking himself into oblivion afterward. And because he reminded Law of everything he had lost.

“You don't have an appointment with her, do you?” Mocha asked, already looking at her computer with a frown.

Law sighed. “I don't,” he said. “But it's important.”

“She doesn't have anything scheduled right now so I guess you can just go through... Don't tell her I told you that though.”

“My lips are sealed,” Law grinned, already on his way again. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Mocha's voice rang after him.

On the way down the hall he told himself that he wasn't taking advantage of her smiles and her kind-heartedness – she _wanted_ to do him these favors. And at least he had made sure early on with Sengoku that no matter in which manner Law waltzed into the offices, she wouldn't get fired.

Tsuru's office was to the right and Law had the decency to knock before entering. He might be rude on principle, but at least he gave people a warning before imposing on their space.

Tsuru didn't even look up from her paperwork when he came in.

“Not surprised to see me?” Law asked.

“Not really,” she said, taking off her reading glasses and putting down her pen. “Corazón mentioned you might be by.”

Law suppressed his groan with some effort. Damn Corazón and his weird, disproportionate ideas of loyalty. “Of course,” he mumbled.

“You want me to represent that girl who killed her mother in your building,” Tsuru said and leaned back in her chair. “Sit down, I don't like looking up at people.”

Law did what she said – he understood the feeling and the sentiment. “Yes.”

“All the evidence is against her,” Tsuru said. “You know I don't work cases that are predetermined losers.”

“She was _coerced_ ,” Law said, urgency in his voice. “She's innocent. He made her do it.”

Tsuru raised her eyebrows. “That's not going to help much.”

“I know who did it. He controls people. He has powers... abilities. Devil Fruit abilities.” There were few people he actually trusted with information like this and in the law firm, Sengoku and Tsuru were the only ones. Sengoku out of pure necessity, because he knew about Law anyway. Tsuru because she had made a point of representing discriminated and unfortunate people in court often enough for Law to trust her not to abuse the information.

She sighed. “You know no one is going to believe that without proof.” No one ever believed people when they said they had met anyone with Devil Fruit powers, let alone their assailant, kidnapper or rapist had been one. The government did their best to ignore – or cover up – the issue and people like Luffy and his friends were a minority.

Tsuru was right. No one would believe an evil mind-controller was on the loose unless Law could get substantial evidence.

“I can get you proof,” Law said, steeling himself. He would have to confront Doflamingo, bring him in, get a confession. Anything. But he would do it.

“How?” she asked, obviously doubtful.

Law smirked. “You know I'm resourceful.”

He knew that this time, he would have to make people listen.

Tsuru regarded him with a thoughtful, piercing expression for a moment before she nodded. “Deal.”

 

 

 

But making people listen and finding proof meant getting closer to the past again. Closer to Doflamingo. And Law knew he was in for not only a horrible amount of flashbacks but also hell on earth. The real thing.

Still he did what he had to do and sat down at his desk with the folder of findings, newspaper clippings and online printouts he had collected in the first few months. Next to them he put the bottle of whiskey. Because he would need it.

He had to force himself to open the folder, the headlines already glaring at him with their bold font.

**Local man killed in bus crash**

Law slowly pushed it aside to reveal another one just like it. He grit his teeth and took a deep breath through his nose. How was this going to help him? It was only going to trigger another panic attack – he could already feel his chest getting tighter and he absolutely didn't need that right now.

He unscrewed the bottle with a grown and took a swig directly out of it.

 

It didn't help with the flashback.

 

_**LAW!** _

The thundering voice in his memory screamed at him.

_**Come back here. Now!** _

But Law didn't.

He kept walking across the street, the sound of tires screeching behind him and he turned around to see the headlights blinding him.

Then the crash.

 

 

Law shook his head to get rid of the images, the aftermath.

There had to be something in the folder that could help him. There had to be.

**Two dead in accident on bus line 27**

Two dead. Two. And it hadn't been the bus driver. This article mentioned Doflamingo's death.

Law balled it up in his fist. They were in this fucking situation because he _wasn't_. Because Law hadn't made sure.

And suddenly it was clear what his next step to getting closer – too close – had to be. Find the person who had forged the death certificate. Find whoever had ensured that Doflamingo lived. No one survived a bus trapping them between hot, bent metal and a brick wall this easily without losing a limb and some vital organs.

He had to go to the hospital that the people who were injured in the crash had been brought to.

The problem was, he had no idea which one that was.

He would have to go back to the scene of the crime.

Everything in him was against it, but he really had no other choice.

 

 

 

So he found himself standing across from the bus stop and the abandoned factory building from a year ago the next morning, his eyes straining against the pictures from his memory that kept clouding his vision.

He had thought this place had freed him but now it was just one more murder scene on the list.

He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets and waited for a gap in traffic to cross the street. There was a garage a good fifty meters down from the bus stop that was open and Law hoped he would find the answer to one of his questions there.

 

“Excuse me,” he said to the man bent over the hood of an old Volvo.

The man grunted and straightened up to turn around, revealing grease-dirtied turquoise hair. It almost looked comical sticking up from his head in a misshapen quiff turned mohawk. Law wondered if it was a safety hazard.

“If I was to walk in front of a car right now, which hospital would they bring me to?” Law asked, causing the man to raise both eyebrows almost to his hairline.

“Don't step in front of a car, man. I'm sure you've got a lot to live for.”

Law rolled his eyes. “Just tell me where they'd bring someone if I called an ambulance.”

The man didn't seem to have heard him – or wanted to hear him. “I tried to fight a train once. Believe me, that never ends well.”

“Come on,” Law groaned. He was really not in the mood for games. “What's the nearest hospital? I swear I'm not going to throw myself at any vehicles.” Why were even strangers so concerned for his safety and well-being?

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” the man grinned. “It's the District General, like five or seven blocks down that way.” He pointed down the direction of the bus line.

“Alright,” Law said, tacking on a belated “Thanks” because he wasn't a complete mannerless barbarian.

“Good luck with whatever you're doing,” the man said before going back to working on the car.

Law walked off and avoided looking at the bus stop this time. He had gotten what he came for. Time to solve another mystery.

 

 

 

The staff wing of the emergency room was surprisingly easy to infiltrate. Nobody really took notice of Law. At least not at first.

 

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

Law froze. _Shit._

Why on _earth_ did Chopper have to work in this exact hospital?

There was a reason Law hadn't asked anyone for help with this, because there would have been questions on why he was investigating this exact bus crash. And Chopper was way too close to it.

Law turned around with a very forced smile. “Oh, hi,” he said. There went his plan to dress up as a nurse.

“Are you alright?” Chopper asked, concern written all over their face.

Law shoved his hands into his pockets. “I'm fine,” he said. “I'm not here because I'm sick. I'm uh... investigating.” Really, there was no way around this and at least Chopper already knew he was a PI. That didn't mean that this wouldn't get ugly though.

Chopper clasped their hands in front of their body. “Investigating?”

“Yes,” Law said. He really had no other way now than this. “I'm looking for a John Doe that probably came in after a bus crash a year ago.”

“You know I'm bound by doctor patient confidentiality, right?” Chopper asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

Law sighed. “I'm very familiar with that, yes. But as far as I know the dude is dead anyway.”

Chopper stood there for another moment before shrugging. “Alright,” they said. “Luffy and Robin seem to trust you so I'm gonna help you out here, but you better not get me fired.”

“I'll do my best,” Law mumbled. Them looking into this probably wouldn't even show on anyone else's radar. Not if Law could do anything about it. “You really only need to get me access to the hospital's computer system.”

“I can definitely do that,” Chopper said, still sounding a little apprehensive. “Follow me.”

Law did and Chopper lead him to something that looked like a mixture of break room and supply closet, a computer in the corner.

“ER records then, right?” Chopper mumbled and Law nodded, but Chopper was already pulling up the program on the screen. “Bus crash, you said? What was the date?”

Law took a deep breath. “September 7th. Last year.” He braced for the inevitable realization in Chopper's eyes but they just punched in the date without hesitation.

Then the names showed up in dark grey letters and Chopper turned to Law with a deep frown. “Why are you looking into Luffy's brother's death?” And there it was.

Maybe Law should have left and hired a hacker to get him the info he needed. Or bribed an unrelated nurse. He really regretted that those methods weren't his style – or part of his moral code – at all.

“Luffy's brother?” he echoed, pretending to be oblivious. He had to go through this now but he could try avoiding this part of the discussion.

Chopper tapped the screen with their finger, pointed at the name _Portgas D. Ace_. “That's Luffy's brother, Ace. He died in that accident.”

“Oh,” Law made. He didn't know what else to say without giving himself away completely.

Thankfully Chopper seemed to feel just as awkward has he did because they moved on quickly, motioning at the other name. “That's the driver, he's still alive. No John Doe though.”

Now it was Law's turn to frown. That couldn't be right. “Are you sure?” he asked.

Chopper nodded gravely. “No one else came through from that accident. I've been working here for a while and there's no way they would have forgotten to put a John Doe into the system. Those are the most interesting patients, even if they're dead.”

Something was definitely very fishy and off here. Law groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Can we print this out? I'm gonna have to go over it at home.”

“Sure,” Chopper shrugged, “I'm still not sure what this is about but...” They trailed off, clearly not sure what they were going to say themself and eager to get this over with. So they hit a few buttons while Law rocked back on his feet and watched the pages float out of the printer on the desk.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly when he grabbed the sheets, folding them to fit them into his pocket.

Chopper just nodded at him. “Whatever it is you're doing, it better not hurt Luffy.”

Law got the feeling that somehow, this scrawny kid meant a lot to everyone he met. He didn't answer.

 

 

The papers brought him no answer. Maybe because he didn't know what he was looking for, but there was no clue as to what had happened to Doflamingo.

Law looked at them again when he was in the elevator in his building but still, the letters on the page were elusive. He groaned and tilted his head back, directing his gaze at the metal ceiling. There was still blood on the reflective surface. Law's stomach churned and he crumpled the paper in his hands, looking down when he shoved it back into his pocket.

How the fuck was he supposed to find Doflamingo if he couldn't figure out where he had disappeared to after the accident?

The elevator doors opened and Law almost ran into Bepo, who had been waiting outside and was apparently in a hurry to get downstairs.

“Oh god,” they gasped at the same time.

“You scared me,” Law said, not sounding very scared but feeling his heart in his throat.

“I'm sorry,” Bepo squeaked and reached out to press the button for the ground floor with a shaking hand. “I was gonna use the phone downstairs, mine broke and I need an ambulance and–“

Law steadied the younger man with a hand on his shoulder. “Slow down,” he told him. “Who needs an ambulance? You?” He was already digging for his phone with his other hand.

Bepo shook his head frantically. “Not for me. Monet. She's having a seizure, I think.”

 _Fuck_. “Where?” Law wanted to know, already pushing past Bepo.

“In my flat,” Bepo said, scrambling after him. “I don't know, she came over for _tea_ and suddenly she fell off the chair...”

Bepo had left his front door open in his haste so Law just barged into his apartment, throwing his phone at Bepo who was coming in after him. “Are you gonna call the ambulance or do I have to do it?”

There was a noise from Bepo that Law took as an agreement to calling an ambulance while he crouched down next to Monet who was on the floor in Bepo's kitchen.

“Do you know if she has epilepsy?” Law asked but Bepo just shook his head, holding Law's phone to his ear. Law suddenly felt very neglectful in not knowing his neighbors better, but he pushed it aside. He couldn't take care of every human being on the planet. Hell, he could barely take care of himself.

Law pushed aside a chair that was standing too close to Monet's body for his liking. Her shaking fit seemed to be subsiding already but Law still thought calling an ambulance was the right way to go – they didn't know anything about her condition, didn't know if this was the first time this had happened or if it was a fairly regular occurrence.

He didn't have the right training for this.

 

The ambulance arrived shortly after, the EMTs taking over for Law and he felt strangely jealous – and relieved. This could have been his job, in another life, in another universe.

Law and Bepo followed them downstairs and looked on as Monet was loaded into the back of the ambulance. “Do you want to go with her?” Law asked Bepo but Bepo shook his head, still white as a sheet.

“That's alright,” Law said. “They'll take good care of her.”

Bepo remained silent and Law stuck his hands in his pockets with a sigh when they closed the ambulance's doors. He felt the folded pieces of paper in his left pocket and his eyes fell to the number on the outside of the ambulance. Helpless hope bloomed in him and he scrambled to look at the printout again. There it was, at the bottom of the page, another – different – ambulance number.

“I need to take care of something,” he told Bepo while already turning around to run back to his flat. Maybe there was another hint here, another straw to cling to.

 

Several phone calls later Law knew the truth. There had been another ambulance that day, but both the bus driver and Ace had been brought in in the same one.

It was too late in the day now to go out and do any actual work, too late to talk to regular citizens. But there was a man somewhere in upstate New York who could maybe help him.

So Law lay in bed – sleepless, of course – and stared at the ceiling, his skin tingling with the possibilities. He could feel anxiety pulsing through his veins with his blood but he knew he needed to do this. He had to keep chasing Doflamingo, because Doflamingo was chasing him and Law would rather be the hunter than the prey.

His phone buzzed on his nightstand but Law ignored it.

He needed to sleep but he felt like it would never come. It would though – eventually. Laced with nightmares and memories and the too real paranoia of existing as a cornered animals. But it would come.

 

 

 

 

The next day Law walked down a street that felt too old and looked too calm and for the first time the air smelled like winter.

Law had always enjoyed winter in the city, even if the air became too cold and sharp to be comfortable to breathe in on some days. He had always loved the painful reminder of being alive. At least until a year ago. That winter after had felt more like hell than like the quiet sea of city life he had been used to.

He walked up to a house that had an older woman raking up wet leaves in her front yard.

“Can I help you?” she asked, not unfriendly but definitely looking suspicious of the strange man entering her property. Law didn't blame her.

“I'm looking for Carl Zane.”

The woman leaned on her rake and looked him up and down. “What do you want from my son? Who are you?”

Law attempted a smile, hoping that his acting skills hadn't completely rusted away. “I'm from the city's transit department,” he said.

“We want nothing to do with you people,” she scoffed. “The government hasn't helped one bit with his medical bills, just because he stole that ambulance.”

“I know he went to the accident scene that day with the dispatched ambulance for the bush crash,” Law said, trying to keep the sickly sweet tone out of his voice that always crept in when he was dealing with a certain sort of dense people, “but then he just drove off with it.”

“They got it back, no damage done, but my poor disabled Carly is now branded a thief, a criminal, an outlaw...”

Law almost rolled his eyes at her dramatic act. “I'm... actually here on some follow-up work,” he said instead. “I'm fairly sure your son wasn't entirely to blame for this, so if he – or you – can give me any further information I might be able to get some strings, get the ruling reversed. He'd receive a pension.”

She blinked at him in surprise and for a moment Law could see the hope and the gratitude in her eyes, before she very obviously tried to shut down her own optimism. “Alright,” she said and moved to lean the rake against the house's outer stairs railing. “Come in.”

When she had said disabled, Law hadn't expected the man to be actually nonverbal and paralyzed, surrounded by machines.

In moments like this he was fairly sure he made the right decision in dropping out of med school because even if he could use his knowledge and his skills, he would never have the right mindset for situations like this.

“This wasn't in his file,” he said. “What happened?”

“He donated his kidneys, the kind soul. They found him half-dead a few days after and brought him back to me.” She stroked her son's cheek.

“Kidneys?” Law echoed the plural. “Both of them?” There was really no way any doctor – even one operating underground – would have done something like that; except if he wasn't the one making the decisions. Sometimes he still got surprised by Doflamingo's sheer inhumanity.

“He had a stroke because of the stress of the operation. They think his body went into shock,” the woman said, “my poor, heroic boy. But I got him back. God works in mysterious ways...”

Law was getting fed up with her. “That looks expensive,” he said, pointing at the dialysis machine. He knew how it worked and he knew exactly how much it cost, but he needed Zane's mother to trust him at least a little.

“It is,” she nodded. “An anonymous donor from the city sent it to us. There are kind souls in this world...”

“Could I get a glass of water?” Law interrupted her. He wouldn't need much time alone, Zane wasn't going to talk anyway, so he would have to see if he could get any usable information from the machine.

“Sure,” she smiled, “you must be parched. But don't go flirting with my boy. I know everybody loves him, but he can't take the excitement anymore.”

For some reason the sentence startled Law. She had seemed like an overly-religious misguided bible-thumper to him but the statement was fond, not even ironic.

He watched her walk off in the direction of the kitchen with relief and pulled his phone out of his pocket, hastily walking over to the dialysis machine and crouching down next to it to take pictures of the registration number and manufacturer info. If he could find out who had donated the machine – and he was a hundred percent sure it hadn't been Doflamingo – he would be another step closer on his trail.

There was a grunting noise from above him and he rose to his full height again to find Zane looking at him in desperation.

“What is it?” Law asked.

Zane stretched his right arm in a jerky motion and reached for a pen. Law realized quickly that he wanted to write something down and grabbed the notepad that was lying on the table not far away, putting it on the arm of Zane's chair.

“Can you tell me where Doflamingo is?” Law asked, breathless, but the first letter that Zane shakily wrote on the paper was a K. Law frowned.

He watched with rising pulse as Zane spelled out _K I L L_ on the paper.

“I wish,” he said, “I wish I could kill him.” But he couldn't. He needed Doflamingo alive to get Rebecca out of prison, out of a life sentence. “But I need to know where he is first.”

But Zane hadn't been finished writing yet.

 

The last two letters read _M E_.

Law took a panicked step back, his hand automatically coming up to rest on his throat as if that would make his breath come easier, the letters of his tattoo mirroring the words on Zane's page in terrible irony.

“I can't,” he choked out. “I can't do that. I'm sorry. I can't.”

He ripped the page off the notepad with a shaken motion. No one but him needed to see this. Was allowed to see this. And then he turned to walk away because there was nothing else to do in this situation. He crossed paths with Zane's mother who was hurrying back to her son who was making the same kind of noises Law would have liked to let escape right now.

“What did you say to him?” she screeched. “You upset him!”

Law didn't answer her, left the house with his pulse pounding in his ears and memories of blood clouding his vision.

 

 

His walk back to the station was filled with reciting street names to himself, clenching and unclenching his hands and leaving the half-moon prints of his fingernails in his palms.

Every person that looked at him was a threat, a silent reminder that he wasn't in control of the situation, might never be again, that he was only taking miniscule steps in the right direction, that he had just spent hours hunting down a lead that might send him into a dead end.

 

It took the entire way back to the city for him to calm down enough to be able to call the number that had been on the manufacturer's warranty sticker on Zane's life-saving machine.

The dialing sound was sheer endless and Law landed on hold first – with terrible waiting loop music – before he was redirected to a general help line. And despite him reciting the dialysis machine's registration and serial number several times they didn't know who to connect him to to give him the information he needed.

He was back climbing up the staircase to his flat and still hadn't gotten any results.

“I'm sorry, we're not open for business today,” the voice said. “The department that could help you is already closed and there's no one back there until tomorrow morning.”

Law groaned. “Don't you have anyone on call for that? There could be emergencies, do you know how dangerous it is to live _without functioning kidneys_?” He hadn't meant to get so loud but his frustration had gotten the better of him, partially because his investigation wasn't moving fast enough – was being hindered by other people and their incompetence – and partially because corporations still didn't seem to grasp the fragility of human lives. He took a deep steadying breath.

“I'm sorry, sir,” the person on the other end repeated while he pushed open the door to his floor's corridor. “Do you want me to leave them a note?”

“Yeah, fine,” he sighed, “just give them the number I gave you and tell them to call me as soon as possible.”

He hung up. Another fucking day of waiting while Doflamingo was either getting further away or closer towards him. He didn't know which option he liked less.

 

He sighed and stuffed his phone back into the pocket, the sharp edges of the crumpled up paper he had ripped off Zane's notepad earlier brushing his fingers. Another reminder of just how lethal, how destructive Doflamingo was.

Today the door to his flat looked more like the entrance to a prison than a home but he would take it. He would always take it.

 

 

He had just settled in with a cup of instant noodles – cooking was not his forte, even after a lifetime of living with Corazón – in front of his Laptop to watch some shitty TV when there was a knock on his front door.

Law sighed and swallowed his current bite of too-hot, too-soft noodles. Another client? He put down the cup, pushed his Laptop away and got up to open the door. No use in ignoring them, a client meant money and if they were anything but a friend they would find a way inside sooner or later.

He didn't expect the actual person in front of his door though.

It was Luffy, wearing a hard expression that made Law's heart stop.

“Why are you looking into my brother's death?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters are probably going to be a bit delayed from now on (closer to the 2-3 week mark) because i'm dealing with mental illness bullshit myself and i can't keep churning out 5k+ chapters every week, especially now that i'm out of pre-written material


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter would have probably been done sooner if i hadn't fallen headfirst into hawaii five-0 but when the queerbaity crime show calls, it drags you down with it i guess

 

 

 

Law didn't think he was a good person.

That was where the opinions split, of course, with Corazón smiling at him so sadly, so softly every time he mentioned it.

But it was the truth. He had lied, he had stolen, he had sinned. And he had killed.

For some reason that didn't seem to interest Corazón in the slightest – maybe because he had done the same.

But now it wasn't Corazón standing in front of him, it was Luffy, and Law had expected the expression of distrust, had expected Luffy to look at him with disgust eventually, after he got too close. He just hadn't thought it would come this soon.

He decided in a split-second that lying wasn't worth it this time. Goddamn Chopper. Law should have gone with the original plan.

“Come in, please,” he said, opening he door wider to let Luffy in.

Luffy shook his head. “Not until you tell me what's going on.”

Law groaned. “Please,” he said, “I don't wanna do this outside, my neighbors are very nosy people.” It didn't matter if they suspected that he was a criminal, but they didn't actually need to know.

“Fine,” said Luffy and pushed past Law. Law closed the door behind him with a sigh. He didn't even get the privilege of hesitating before following Luffy into his office because Luffy was peering down the hallway in entirely the wrong direction.

“Just go straight through into my office,” Law said weakly. “We can talk there.”

Luffy turned and walked through the open door into Law's office. Law followed after him, a lot less anger in his step. Luffy didn't sit down – it made him so much bigger, so much _more_ – so Law didn't either.

“So, are you going to explain now?”

Law held back another sigh. “There's a connection between your brother's death and the man that I'm looking for,” he said. He was skirting around the full truth, but this was as much as Luffy needed to know right now.

“Rebecca,” Luffy said abruptly. “This is to help Rebecca?”

“Yes,” Law nodded. “Look, the bus crash that... Doflamingo was involved in that too and he was supposed to be dead but well, he's not and I had to figure out how he did it.”

The way Luffy looked at him softened a little, from outright suspicion to something less hostile. “How?” he asked.

Law grimaced. “He kidnapped the driver of the second ambulance and forced him to give him both his kidneys.”

“Ouch, harsh,” Luffy winced and finally sat down – not on one of the chairs but on the desk, but at least he wasn't an overwhelming presence in the room anymore.

Law felt a little wave of relief wash over him. Luffy seemed to have taken the diversion and was now focusing on Rebecca's case again. It wasn't fair, especially on him, but there was more important things right now.

“I'm still hunting down a lead,” Law said, “but I'll have to wait until tomorrow to continue with it.”

Luffy nodded solemnly before the frown found its way back to his face. “Wait, does this mean it wasn't actually an accident?”

_Shit._

“I don't know,” Law said. The first outright lie. He wasn't going to get out of this unscathed. Luffy looked like he wanted to say more but Law pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “Look, I just really need to shed some more light on this situation myself before I can even think about getting anyone else involved. So... would you mind letting me do my own thing for a while?”

In truth he still didn't want to get anyone involved, period. But he couldn't keep stopping everyone from getting themselves in danger when he was first in line.

So Luffy squinted at him for a second before he shrugged. “Alright,” he said. “But I'm gonna give you my phone number so you don't have an excuse not to call.”

Law thought about refusing for a moment but the expression on Luffy's face was filled with such determination that in the end Law just took his phone from his pocket, ready to type in the number. “Fine.”

The thought of actually having Luffy's number at his disposal was kind of exhilarating – and dreadful. Law didn't trust himself very much.

Luffy grinned and dictated him the number before jumping off the desk. “You better call,” he said.

Law knew himself better than to say that he wouldn't. So he just held up his hand in a weak wave goodbye as Luffy left.

He knew that this was wrong, that he shouldn't even be in contact with Luffy. That he was only going to drag him down further into a darkness that Luffy had no place in – didn't deserve to be in. But Law couldn't help himself.

And that was why he wasn't a good person.

 

He didn't sleep well that night – but then again, when did he ever? – and woke up to his phone ringing loudly next to his ear.

He groaned and answered with a dissatisfied grunt. “Yeah?”

It took him almost twenty seconds to realize that the person at the other end was from the customer service of the dialysis machine.

“Oh,” he made, trying to think through the remaining darkness of his latest nightmare. “Um, yeah, thanks for calling back. I... The machine, it's not working properly. I need to contact the person who leases it to authorize the repair but I don't have any information on him.” Only one lie so far, that had to be a record.

“Sure, sir, let me just look that up. One moment, please.”

Law used that time to grab his notebook from his bedside table. At least things seemed to be proceeding faster today.

It only took another minute until he had jotted down the name and telephone number of the dialysis machine's donor and asked the person on the other end of the line profusely.

Not the worst wake-up call.

 

He got up to research the man behind the name he had received, since there was no use in calling a number when he knew nothing about the person he could use as a stepping stone to get what he needed.

While he sifted through various Google searches he ate some toast, mainly because he wasn't sure when he had actually eaten a full meal the last time, his instant noodles from last night discarded in the trashcan, after Luffy's visit had made even breathing almost impossible.

 

The information he needed wasn't hard to come by: The man he was looking for was named Dr. Hiluluk and after a while of Internet research Law got a pretty extensive – albeit confusing – résumé.

Dr. Hiluluk had been a transplant surgeon up until a year ago, after which he had taken a teaching position in an undergrad medical school – and not a very good one. Law chewed on his fingernails while the picture in his head became clearer and his imagination started to diverge. Had Dr. Hiluluk been let go for performing an illegal, possibly even underground surgery? Or had he been scared enough of what he had done, what he had been made to do, to quit his job himself and go into hiding, making his money with the every day prayer and futile hope that he wasn't teaching another generation of murderers how exactly the human body was most vulnerable?

Law removed his fingers from between his teeth and shook his head to clear his thoughts. He wouldn't know until he actually talked to the man.

A quick scan of his schedule revealed that he would be teaching an introductory genetics class later today and Law quickly saved the address of the college and the room number to his phone before swallowing the rest of his toast and getting up.

He was out of whiskey again but that would have to wait until after he had talked to Dr. Hiluluk. So he threw on his coat and headed out the door, hoping that he would be able to get some answers today without it turning ugly right away.

 

 

 

Law had not considered how much nostalgia would come with walking through a college hallway. It made him uneasy, the familiarity of the chatter, the knowledge that behind each door students were taught the things he already knew, had known since childhood.

Of course he had been in Universities since he had dropped out of medical school – not a lot, maybe a handful, but his work had made him cross paths with academia before – nevertheless this was a little too close to home. And the ever present shadow of Doflamingo looming over him only made the pressure in Law's chest worse.

But he walked on, driven by the determination to at least find him first, to at least save Rebecca, to make sure that no one else had to go through this ever again.

So he slipped through the door of a medium sized lecture hall that was only sparsely filled, maybe a dozen students dotted in the middle rows. Law settled into a seat in the back with the make-up on his face firmly in place; he had decided to watch Dr. Hiluluk for a while before approaching him after class ended.

“I know grades are a construct none of us approve of,” the man was saying to his students at this very moment, almost causing Law to frown, “but you need to do the basic course work if you want to graduate. You should know the difference between a chromosome and an allele by now – I learned that in high school, by the way. So please, take another look or two at your textbooks before the retake, alright?”

At that point he looked up from where he had been staring at someone in the first three rows very intently and spotted Law in the back, an expression of recognition and horror crossing his face.

Now Law was frowning in earnest.

“In case... umm... some of you for some reason don't have the time to do that, though, we'll... uh...”

Law had the very pronounced feeling that Dr. Hiluluk was going to do something extremely stupid next.

“...go...”

Like run away.

Dr. Hiluluk took a few fast strides to the side of the room where a door separated it from the adjoining lecture hall and wrenched it open with a panicked noise, completely giving up his teaching farce..

On a very flexible scale, running wasn't the worst thing he could have done – like shoot at Law, for example, but it was annoying nonetheless. Law took off from his seat and flew down the stairs towards the closing door. He knew he was faster than a middle aged surgeon turned college professor but he also hated running after people a lot.

The students made concerned noises at the sudden commotion but nobody tried to stop Law – to their and his luck. He raced through the door only seconds after Dr. Hiluluk, momentarily locking eyes with a shocked looking, much younger professor but he ignored her in favor of running after his target. He couldn't let him get away.

Law managed to gain some ground in the hallway thanks to the doctor bumping into several students while everyone had already jumped out of the way when Law weaved through, but Dr. Hiluluk still managed to reach the staircase before him.

Law groaned through gritted teeth and leaned over the railing to see if he was going up or down – down, of course, there was nothing to gain by going upstairs than a deadly fall – and then sprinted after him again.

The basement was the end of the chase, an empty hallway looming in front of him.

But there was only hiding places down here, no emergency exits – they had passed the last of those on the landing above the basement door.

“Dr. Hiluluk?” Law called out cautiously, slowly creeping further down the dimly lit hallway. “You seem to think that I want to hurt you. But I'm not going to do anything to you. I just came to talk.” He knew that those weren't exactly reassuring words, but he had never been very good at those.

He cautiously turned a corner, entering a big boiler room. “I'll start, then. You were the best transplant surgeon up north and now you're teaching undergrads how to hold a scalpel. You're hiding. And not just from me, from something bigger. You didn't come to the city to retire. What are you hiding from?”

“Is he here?” Dr. Hililuk's voice echoed from somewhere to his left.

Law took a step towards it. “Who? Doflamingo?” he said, carefully, not wanting to spook the man even more. “He's dead. At least that's what the death certificate said. The death certificate that _you_ forged.”

“Is he with you?”

“Why would he be with me?” Law asked, frowning, and stopped in his tracks. The doctor had to come to him now.

“He had pictures of you,” Dr. Hiluluk said and Law felt the cold creeping up his spine but he pressed his hands against his thighs and ignored it. “He was obsessed.”

“He's not here,” he said, not sure if he was trying to reassure the doctor or himself.

It was then that Dr. Hiluluk stepped out from behind one of the boilers, hunched over, his hands fisted in his sweater. Law took another step towards him. The man looked more than frightened, terrified, his eyes wide and sweat beading on his forehead. There was a pang of sympathy but Law pushed that aside, too.

“You performed surgery on the EMT,” Law said, “Carl Zane.”

Dr. Hiluluk flinched, looking off to the side and Law could see the shame written all over his face. “He made me do it.”

“I know,” Law said. “But why? How badly was he hurt in the accident?”

“One of his kidney's had been destroyed,” Dr. Hiluluk said. “The other one started to break down, too.”

“Crush syndrome,” Law mumbled and the doctor looked at him for a moment, as if in recognition. Law felt compelled to take a step back – but he didn't. He was too much like the doctor and nothing like him at the same time. “So he grabbed you to help him,” he continued, trying to move on from the familiarity of the term he had seen in his childhood, heard in old hallways, read in his textbooks.

Dr. Hiluluk shook his head. “The EMT did,” he said, now approaching Law, still careful but obviously a little more eager to explain himself, to make an attempt at setting things right now that he had been found out. “I told Doflamingo that he could survive with one kidney, but he wanted to be whole. He wanted to be perfect.”

Law felt his stomach churn. It had to have been expected, but every time he learned of another atrocity, another facette to Doflamingo's horrors, he was horrified all over again.

“Was Zane a match?” he asked, frowning. That would have been sheer luck, there should have been no time to look for an actual donor, and getting the right man with the right ambulance... It was impossible.

Dr. Hiluluk shook his head. “No, but any kidney can work temporarily.”

“He'll just have to maim someone else again in a few years, when it stops working,” Law added, fighting down his disgust. “Were there no other injuries? Weaknesses?”

The doctor didn't even seem to hear him. “I've never seen anything like it. Ten hours of surgery and he watched me the entire time.”

“He was _awake_?” Law asked. “No anesthesia?”

“He refused to be put under,” Dr. Hiluluk said. “He did the whole thing with an epidural.”

It dawned on Law then, very slowly, just a small idea in the back of his head at first that suddenly burst into the light. “He didn't want to be unconscious,” he mumbled, more thinking out loud than anything else. “But he sleeps...”

“It's different,” the doctor said.

“Surgical anesthesia... It shuts down different brain functions, right?” Law asked, trying to remember the knowledge he had ignored and pushed away for so long.

“Exactly.”

“That's his weakness,” Law said, silently, as if it wasn't a monumental realization. “Everyone else, they just have to be unconscious to be vulnerable and powerless but his power is different.” He ignored the look the man gave him. He knew that some powers – body modifications, like Luffy's ability or Chopper's entire existence – were permanent while others required more focus and active thought. But Doflamingo was different. His powers had a limit but they were also strong enough to withstand simple methods.

But now Law had his weakness.

There was a way. There was hope.

Law took his phone from his pocket and dialed the number of the law firm's offices. He had found his proof.

“Hello Mocha,” he said, when the secretary picked up, “could I speak to Tsuru, please?” He turned to Dr. Hiluluk again while he was waiting for the line to connect. “She's an attorney and you're going to tell her what happened.”

“No!” the doctor said, holding at a hand and taking a step to the side as if to flee again but Law was right there with him.

“Yes!” he countered. “You have _nothing_ left to lose. You're rotting away in a shitty pre-med college because you're scared. But you can make this right.”

“I still have my mind,” the doctor said quietly. “I can still lose that.”

“Hello?” Tsuru's voice said in Law's ear and he sighed quietly.

“I'm sorry,” he said to Dr. Hiluluk, “but you have to do this. You're going to help people again.”

“Law, is that you?”

“Tsuru,” Law said, “meet Dr. Hiluluk. My proof.”

He thrust the phone towards the doctor who looked like he wanted to do nothing more than bolt and leave the country, but he reached out for the phone anyway.

It only occurred to Law when he saw the doctor talking on the phone that maybe his last words hadn't been about the man in front of him but about himself.

 

Tsuru was convinced.

After the doctor got off the phone with her he gave it back to Law and she – somewhat begrudgingly – agreed to go see Rebecca.

And Law could go home. He made sure to get the doctor's number first and tell him that he was a key witness. He would find him again, so there was no use in trying to disappear.

 

 

 

 

Back in his flat Law surveyed the state his office was in. The macabre contents of the small evidence – or rather reports – file he had on Doflamingo were still scattered on his desk. He sighed and went to gather it up, put it back onto the shelf where it had been lying dormant for the past few months, in contrast to his thoughts. It wasn't just evidence against Doflamingo, it was also evidence against himself.

When he had the folder out of his sight he slumped into his desk chair, leaned his head back and exhaled loudly. The day had exhausted him, even more so than usual.

It was absurd that the answer had been so easy, that it had been right in front of him the whole time, stringing him along on a wild goose chase until he finally caught up. Anesthesia. One simple drug, one prick of a needle and Doflamingo would be defenseless.

Now Law just needed to find a way to acquire one. But like he had told Tsuru before, he was resourceful. This was only one more step on the way.

It still bothered him that no one had known this. That Corazón hadn't known this.

Or maybe he just hadn't told him.

And that thought bothered Law even more.

He groaned and reached for his phone. Maybe it was time for _him_ to call Corazón. Maybe that was one of the missing puzzle pieces.

He selected Corazón from him contacts and hit the call button. This was something he needed to do.

It didn't take long for his brother to answer the phone. “Hello stranger.”

“Hey,” Law said, already feeling way beyond uncomfortable.

“What's up?”

Law laughed joylessly. “Oh, not much. Just hunting the homicidal maniac that ruined both of our lives.”

“Law,” Corazón sighed.

“Sorry.” Law pushed himself off one of the legs of his desk with his right foot and wheeled backwards on his chair. “I've got news on that front, actually.”

“Did you find him?” Corazón asked, suddenly sounding a little breathless.

“No,” Law said, “but I found something else. Something better, actually. Or well, something that was better to be found now than after I ran into him again.” He paused for a second for dramatic effect, because he wasn't above that still. “I found his weakness.”

There was silence for a second, then a barely audible “What?” came from Corazón.

“Surgical anesthesia,” Law said. “Stuff like Sufentanil or Propofol that knocks him out properly. It shuts down his powers. It frees everyone under his control, no matter the time or space limit.”

“Shit,” Corazón said and Law didn't know if Corazón had picked that habit up from him or the other way around. Then again: “Shit. Why didn't we think of that earlier.”

Law braced himself. He had to ask, had to know. It wouldn't have been the first time that Corazón had hidden something from him. Secrets were a part of their family. “I thought you might have known...”

“Law,” Corazón said again. Nothing more.

“Well, did you?” Law asked. “He's your brother, like you said, it's not too far fetched that you...” He couldn't finish the sentence after all.

“I didn't know,” Corazón said, sharpness in his voice. “By the time I saw him again after he ate the fruit he was way too secretive and too paranoid to trust anyone with information like that.”

“Not even you?” Law asked, somewhat nonsensical.

“Not even me.”

There was a pause in the conversation, a lull in which Law thought about if he believed Corazón. If he could believe him. If the ties between blood related brothers were stronger than the ones between him and Corazón, who had just about the same amount of history as Corazón and Doflamingo.

“Hey,” Corazón said suddenly, startling Law out of his musings, “this is the first time that you called me without me prompting you in a while. And sober, even.”

“I hope you're happy,” Law grumbled and Corazón's laugh rang in his ears.

“I am,” he said.

“You're so easy to please...”

Corazón chuckled again but now it sounded sadder. “I take what I can get with you, you cut me out so much...”

Law groaned. “I'm not cutting you out,” he said. “I'm trying to protect you. You don't deserve to go through this again...”

“Neither do you,” Corazón said softly before letting out a sigh. „You know I don't need you to protect me, right? I never did.“

“Yeah, big brother and everything,” Law said. “But did it ever occur to you that I don't need you to protect me either?” Not anymore, at least. “You can be as strong as you want, but I'm the one who needs to do this.”

“Alright,” Corazón said, obviously giving in to save the argument for another time. “But stop worrying about me, okay? I don't want that.”

“Fine,” Law said. Then he blurted out the next question before he could stop himself. “Do you wanna go out for drinks then?”

“I would love to,” Corazón answered, the smile in his voice obvious to Law's ears. “But I'm a little busy right now, I'm working out, I left my trainer waiting. We could do dinner this week?”

“What kind of role did you take on now that you need to exercise even more?” Law asked, before registering that Corazón had actually agreed to his proposal. “Dinner would be nice.”

Corazón laughed. “Awesome, I'll call you!”

“As usual,” Law said and was about to hang up when Corazón seemed to think of something else.

“And Law? You don't need to worry about me having any more ties with Dof...lamingo. You're more of a brother to me than he ever was. My loyalty lies with you.”

“Okay,” Law said silently, startled by the admission. Then Corazón ended the call.

Law put his phone back onto the desk and stared down at his hands for a moment. To think that Corazón would pick him over his own blood relation, time and time again. It didn't make sense to him. From an outside perspective, for every other person he knew he would have understood. But not himself. He didn't feel worthy.

He got up to possibly find some booze and take a shower before he was going to ponder the anesthesia thought some more.

 

 

He managed to ban all thoughts of surgery, syringes and old lecture halls from his mind until after he had stepped out of the shower and was standing in front of his sink, brushing his teeth.

The face in the mirror greeted him with even deeper circles under his eyes than usual, face pale in the bathroom light and framed by his dark hair – only the discolored parts stood out even more and he rolled his eyes at himself. His looks and a good nights sleep were very far down his list of priorities right now.

He spit some toothpaste into the sink and wondered how he was going to get the drugs he needed.

He still had very loose contact with some people from med school, he could probably even bribe a professor. But that would be too high profile. He needed to find a way to acquire Sufentanil without raising any red flags.

Which meant breaking into a hospital was also out of the question.

He really hated having to involve more people in this, but he had no other choice.

After he got out of the bathroom and put on some boxers and a t-shirt he went back into his office to retrieve his phone and scroll through his contact list.

But before he could find any of his old acquaintances from school he caught himself hovering over Luffy's name and number. He had said that he wanted to be involved, hadn't he? And Law had promised to call. Or as close to a promise as he could get.

He pressed the button.

The line rang for an agonizing eight seconds before Luffy picked up.

“Hello, this is Luffy?”

“Um, hi,” said Law, “it's Law.”

“Hi,” Luffy repeated and Law could basically hear the grin he was currently directing at the phone. “What's up?”

Law took a deep breath. “So, that lead I was talking about yesterday? Turns out I was right and the guy I talked to knew a lot... or well, he knew enough. I have a way to disable Doflamingo _and_ his powers.”

“Woha, really?” Luffy asked excitedly. “What is it?”

“It's not as easy as I just made it sound,” Law backpedaled and then pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. This next one was the hardest part. “I need your help.”

There was silence for just a fraction of a second before Luffy's voice echoed in his ear again. “Sure, what do you need?”

“Do you work tomorrow?” Law asked. It was a redundant question, he knew Luffy worked Thursdays, but for the sake of not seeming too eccentric and weird he had to ask.

“I do,” Luffy said. “Do you wanna meet here at the bar?”

“Yeah. And can you make sure Chopper is there too?”

“Hmm,” Luffy made, a pensive sound, “I think they have the night shift today so if we meet late enough tomorrow they should be awake and available.”

“Alright, that's good,” Law said. “I'll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you tomorrow,” Luffy said, still way too cheerful and Law hung up with the gut-wrenching feeling that if that cheer ever vanished from Luffy's voice it would be his fault.

 

That night he was still out of whiskey and sleep evaded him for hours.

 

 

 

It was already late on the next day when he got up to head to Luffy's bar and the halls of his apartment building were filled with noise that he tried to ignore. When he stepped into the elevator Monet was already in it, looking pale but significantly more healthy than the last time Law had seen her.

“Hey,” he said in greeting and pressed the button to close the doors, the button for the ground floor already lit up from when Monet had pressed it.

“Hi,” Monet mumbled and usually Law would have left it at that but he also didn't have to call an ambulance for his neighbors all the time.

“How are you?” he asked and Monet shrugged.

“Okay, I guess,” she said, “I was out of medication the other day, that's why...” She made a vague hand motion and Law nodded to signal that he understood.

“But you got your prescription refilled now?” he asked. It was kind of worrisome that she managed to run out of medication she so obviously needed, but Law knew how expensive it could be and he hated it.

She nodded and looked at her feet. “Yeah.” They were silent for a second before she tacked on a “Thanks, by the way.”

“It was mostly Bepo, but I'm glad I could help,” Law said, ignoring the tightness in his chest.

They arrived at the ground floor and the doors opened, making them walk out into the lobby after each other in silence and Law's discomfort grew but he just took some faster steps to be in front of Monet. He pushed the door open and then held it open for her anyway.

“So, uh, bye. I guess,” she said. At least they seemed to both be around the same level of awkward.

“Yeah, see you around,” Law answered and was then glad to see that they were definitely heading in opposite directions. It was better than being forced to walk to the subway station together.

He somehow felt obliged to text Bepo and tell him that he had met Monet and she seemed to be alright, but he didn't. Maybe he would tell him later.

 

 

The official opening time of the Thousand Sunny was still an hour away. Law was sure this was because Luffy did have classes he had to attend from time to time and with the bar only having two and a half employees, having it open all the time would be impossible. Still when he rapped his knuckles against the glass in the front door it only took a few seconds until Luffy's face was peering at him through the milky window and his face split into a smile when he unlocked the door.

“Hi!” he grinned as he let it swing open and Law felt overwhelmed by Luffy's unconditional cheer once again.

“Hello,” he said and pushed past Luffy, he had already spotted Chopper, who eyed him with suspicion, sitting at the bar. Law sighed. He didn't feel great about this either, but Luffy's friends had wanted to be involved – and Chopper could say no, anyway.

“Do you need another favor?” Chopper asked while Law heard the lock of the front door click shut again.

“Sadly, yes,” he said and threw a glance at Luffy who walked around the bar. “I need Sufentanil and that's not your average street drug, as far as I know.”

Both Luffy and Chopper gaped at him.

“You want me to steal Sufentanil for you?” Chopper asked, sceptically, as if they couldn't quite believe Law's credibility and general sanity.

“Yes,” Law sighed. There really was no other way to say this. “I swear, I don't need much. And if you're caught – which is unlikely – I know some very good lawyers.”

Chopper frowned, leaning back slightly. “Okay, but _why_?” Luffy slid a glass across the bar towards Law and Chopper regarded it with the same suspicion they had just scrutinized Law with. “Graduating from alcoholism?”

“I wish,” Law mumbled. “No, it's my way of defeating Doflamingo.”

Again both of them stared at him for a moment before Chopper caught themselves. “Surgical anesthesia is a logical choice but why can't you just... I don't know. Knock him out or ask someone else.”

“I would, if I had a choice,” Law said, “but knocking him out forcefully is too risky while I'm sure the anesthesia is going to have the effect I want. And really, I can't ask anyone else without either getting ratted out to the police and losing my license or being handed an anti-psychotic prescription.” What he needed wasn't an anti-psychotic, it was Doflamingo dead, Rebecca free and definitely some more whiskey, but two of those wishes weren't generally socially correct or accepted.

He really couldn't do this alone and in asking Chopper he wouldn't bring more people into this mess, he would just drag Chopper – and Luffy – down further. It wasn't perfect but it was the best he could do.

Chopper sighed. “Alright, I'll try. For Rebecca.”

Law exhaled in relief. “Thank you. That's all I need.”

 

 

He really wasn't a good person, but he tried to make amends. That was the best he could do.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyy, not even two weeks this time. i'm proud of myself, especially since this chapter is the longest one yet.
> 
> ao3 seems insistent on messing with the italics so i'm sorry if something looks off, i edited this twice already...

 

 

Law didn't believe in god, but he believed in the devil.

An Doflamingo was his own personal incarnation of it, a walking, talking Lucifer. He haunted him, not just in his dreams but in every waking hour and Law felt like he was coming apart at the seams.

Chopper had left the bar shortly before it opened to presumably go and do things that normal people did in their lives, and by the time the bar had filled a little Law was on his fourth glass of whiskey in an attempt to stop the fraying of his mind.

Luffy looked at him sadly between serving customers. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” he asked.

“It's a very long story and if you ask me that again I'm leaving right now without paying,” Law said, raising his eyes from his glass to glare at Luffy.

“Ugh, please don't,” Luffy said, “Zoro does that to me way too often.”

“I thought he got free drinks because he works here,” Law asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Luffy shook his head. “He gets a _discount_ and some free beer because I'm _nice_.”

Law snorted and took another swig from his glass. “I'd take advantage of that too if I worked here,” he said lightly.

Luffy had moved to a spot a few meters down the bar but snatched Law's glass away from him with his rubber arm in a flash. Law flinched and looked around to see if anyone had noticed, but most of the patrons seemed to be either too preoccupied with themselves or used to Luffy's antics. When Law looked back at Luffy he was greeted with a grin.

“Give it back,” Law sighed.

“Are you gonna pay for it?” Luffy shot back.

Law rolled his eyes. “Of course I'm going to pay for it, I was only joking.”

“Well, at least you weren't flirting,” a vaguely familiar voice said to his left and he turned to see Nami leaning against the counter. She smiled and raised her hand in greeting. “He doesn't do very well with flirting.”

“Uh, I do, actually,” Luffy said, sliding the glass back towards Law, “I just choose to ignore it because it confuses me?”

“That's the definition of 'not doing well', Luffy,” Nami said. Law blinked in confusion.

“I've been trying to teach him, but he's not a very good student,” said another voice, unfamiliar this time but Law could already put a name to the characteristic eyebrows and the blond hair. “Hi, you must be Law. I'm Sanji.”

Law almost ignored the outstretched hand but then took it at the last possible moment. “Nice to meet you,” he said in a very neutral voice.

“This one won't shut up about you,” Sanji said and pointed at Luffy, who blew up his cheeks in indignation at the fast betrayal. Nami laughed.

“I didn't know I had left such a lasting impression,” Law said, putting the glass to his lips again.

Now both Nami and Sanji laughed while Luffy rolled his eyes. “You're a private investigator,” he said, as if that explained everything. “That's _so cool_!”

“Uh,” Law made, “alright. It's not that cool, really. It pays the bills and sometimes I actually get to help people with things that aren't catching their soon to be former partners in the act of cheating.” That caused Sanji to snort into the drink Luffy had given him no ten seconds before and Nami elbowed him in the side.

“Yeah, but you're trying to help Rebecca,” Luffy said, “even though you don't have to.”

Law realized with a start that Luffy and his friends didn't know to which extent he knew Doflamingo. How Rebecca's case was personal to him. How it was technically also personal for Luffy – beyond being acquaintances with Rebecca. And every minute he withheld the information from them, from Luffy, it only made it worse. But he was acting on a need-to-know basis here and the less they were aware of Doflamingo and his sprawling horrors, the better.

He pulled himself from his thoughts and shrugged. “Wouldn't you?” he asked, knowing that it was a redundant question.

“Of course we would,” Nami said, “but we have an emotional connection with her, you know? And – please, don't take this the wrong way – you don't. You knew her for maybe an hour in person before all that bullshit happened. We've been with her for a lot longer.”

Law couldn't argue with that, despite knowing better. The emotional connection was there, if he wanted it to or not. It was different, of course it was, but Rebecca and him had things in common that most of Luffy's friends probably wouldn't even see in their worst nightmares. But he kept quiet.

He finished his drink and fished for some cash in his pocket. “I can't promise you much,” he said to no one in particular, “but I can promise that I'll do my best to get Rebecca out of prison. And then I'm going neutralize Doflamingo.”

He knew all three of them were looking at him with questioning glances and he felt like they could see right through him, but he told himself not to care and slapped the money on the counter.

“I'll see you whenever Chopper comes back around,” he said to Luffy and turned to walk away, leaving the decision if he wanted to tell his friends about the Sufentanil to Luffy. It would be irresponsible, but Law wasn't a babysitter. He was in up to his neck anyway.

The temperature had dropped when he stepped back out into the street and he wrapped his scarf tighter around him on instinct. He wondered when they would get the first snow and if Doflamingo would be in custody by then.

He would have to make sure they did.

  


  


  


There was nothing to do that night – or the next day – with no further leads on Doflamingo, no calls from Luffy regarding Chopper and the drugs and no new case. So Law did laundry.

He hated being bored. Being unmoving when there was something to be done didn't suit him, but he had no other choice.

After a few hours he found himself wanting to call both Corazón and Luffy, even though there was no need to. Sure, he had told Corazón that they would meet up for lunch but he felt reluctant to actually do so and well, there was really no reason why he should call Luffy.

Giving a damn about other people was a weakness and Law didn't like that he had noticed it creeping up on himself.

He could hear the voice of his first therapist – the very first, back when he had been thirteen and hated the world no less than he did now – tell him “Emotions are not something to be afraid of, Law.”

But they were dangerous, and thus Law's fear was justified, no matter what naive psychologists who closed their eyes to the truth said.

So instead he went out to buy booze. It was cheaper – and safer, personally – to buy it at the small 24-hour corner store than to go to Luffy's bar all the time. All his therapists and Corazón would probably fight Law on that, but it would still leave him with the money argument. And he just didn't care.

The clerk had the radio on, but Law tuned it out like he usually did. It was all just mindless chatter anyway.

He grabbed some snacks on the way to the counter, stopped in front of the energy drink for a moment and then shook his head to himself. Less energy was what he needed right now, not more.

When he was already half on the way to pay the name “Riku” fell in the radio broadcast and shattered Law's sweet oblivion.

“ _This girl thinks she can pin the murder on some imaginary dude? Man, that's insane. She clearly belongs in prison.”_

Law could barely stop himself from wincing, but he frowned very openly. The media crusade of shit had to be expected, but it was ugly.

“ _Listen, I know people think there's a lot of people with that Devil Fruit shit out there but come on. This is a little too convenient._ ”

Law let his intended purchases drop on the counter a little too forcefully and glared at the clerk. “I'll take your cheapest bourbon,” he said.

The clerk raised both his eyebrows at him but turned around to grab the desired bottle from the shelf. “Something wrong?”

“' _Doflamingo', that's ridiculous. Have you ever heard of a more made up sounding name?_ ”

“No.” Law really wanted to punch something – or someone. The clerk laughed and Law's hand twitched. Not him, he wasn't the one at fault here. He didn't have a clue, and ignorance was sadly not a good enough reason for bodily harm. Starting a fight over this wasn't worth it.

Law slapped the money down and grabbed the bag with his whiskey and mars bars.

“ _This is all just some big ploy. But in the end, the girls a murderer and she needs to pay._ ”

Maybe he should join a gym. But not before he got Rebecca away from the media's bad side.

Tsuru would have to do some proper defending.

  


  


He went home and looked up more of the public fallout of Rebecca's case while he took gulps straight from the bottle.

Podcast hosts and newspaper journalists alike called her a liar, damaged, weak, dragging her through mud and worse. It made Law's blood boil with rage and his fingers tighten around the bottle neck.

She wasn't using “the devil made me do it” just as a weak excuse, the devil had actually had his dirty hands in this, but no one could accept it. And Law would have to make them see the truth.

  


  


  


  


He could have called Tsuru, but he preferred confronting people in person if he had to. They couldn't hang up on you then, as he was prone to do himself.

“The media is crucifying Rebecca,” he said, his anger still fresh and hot on his skin. “You need to do something.”

Tsuru regarded him with a sad, tired look from behind her desk. “You can't just barge in here,” she said, with the resignation of someone who knew that it was futile. “I can't do anything about this public debate until I have irrefutable proof that she's not a complete maniac.”

“I gave you proof!” Law growled.

“Well, if you would like to display that courage some more, how about your testimony?”

Law's blood ran cold in an instant. “My what?”

“Your testimony,” Tsuru repeated. “About you being another one of Doflamingo's victims.”

Law's hands formed fists at his sides and he looked off towards the window in an attempt to keep what was left of his composure. “Rebecca,” he said. “She told you.” Tsuru nodded.

He had worked so hard to keep this a secret from Tsuru, basically had had to beg Sengoku not to tell anyone. It should have been common sense, but his foster father had always been a little weird.

“Your story will help me win this case,” Tsuru said and Law flinched. He wasn't just an accessory, a convenient piece of evidence to be brought out at the right moment. He was a _person_.

He had always hated being a pawn in someone else's game – even before Doflamingo – and he refused to be put on the stands, quite literally. Even for Rebecca.

“My 'story' will leave me in the same position as Rebecca,” he said, his voice trembling with what he hoped was still anger, not fear.

Tsuru raised an eyebrow. “Incarcerated?”

Law took a deep breath. Prison was the least of his worries. “Broken,” he said, because Tsuru wouldn't rest until she had gotten the word out of him. He looked past her for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “Doflamingo leaves a trail of people like us behind. Get some of _them_ to testify.”

“Rosinante, then, perhaps,” Tsuru said.

Law saw red. He couldn't take it. “Don't you dare,” he growled, ready to close his hands around her throat but instead clenching them in front of his own body. “Do not bring him into this.” He didn't even know how much she knew, or how she had found out. Sengoku, again, most probably, but that didn't excuse her using Corazón as leverage. “Anyone but him.”

Tsuru smiled sweetly but Law could see the exhaustion behind it. “You bring them to me, I'll use their stories. I don't like doing this any more than you do but there is no other way. Do you realize that?”

Law was all too aware of that, but it didn't make him hate the situation any less.

“I do,” he said through gritted teeth, “but I'm busy trying to find Doflamingo, alright? If you change public perception other victims might come forward by themselves, but not like this. You have to realize that.”

Tsuru shook her head. “Going public will undercut my credibility in court. I couldn't, even if I wanted to.”

“So you don't want to,” Law said and he made sure to bleed as much anger as he could into the following words. “You're a coward.”

“Don't insult me, Trafalgar,” Tsuru said, rising slightly from her seat. “I'm on your side in this. I'm the only other person who is trying to save Rebecca's life.”

Law stared at her in disbelief. “If that were true,” he said – and suddenly he felt very calm, “I'd be very concerned.” The urge to throw a 'No, you're not' in her face was almost overwhelming, but he squashed it and turned to walk away instead.

Rebecca was lucky to have her friends.

He left the offices still angry, but knowing that if he rallied, he could do something about this. Rebecca was not alone.

  


But he was also all too aware that he had lied to Tsuru. He was already broken.

That didn't mean that he couldn't still fall apart completely, though. But Rebecca, Rebecca could still be fixed. And Law was placing all his bets on that.

  


  


  


  


He spent the next few days knowing that he had a way of getting the media on Rebecca's good side and desperately not wanting to utilize it. Corazón had a weekly radio talk show next to his usual acting jobs and people respected his opinion. Law wasn't sure why anyone would want to hear his voice – everyone seemed to be much keener on his looks – but then again he had grown up with Corazón and already knew how wicked smart he was.

But he didn't want to ask Corazón for another favor. Especially not one as huge as this.

So he dreaded the moment his brother was going to call him for that dinner they had agreed on.

  


  


Chopper called him first.

  


Law was just unlocking his front door, after helping Bepo and Monet carry a used bookshelf she had bought online into Monet's flat, when his phone rang and an unknown number greeted him from the display.

Law stepped into his apartment and let the door fall shut behind him before he answered. It could be a new client and discussing his work out in the corridor wasn't his favorite thing to do.

“Trafalgar Law,” he said cautiously.

“Hello,” a voice said that seemed familiar to Law but he couldn't quite place at first, “um, it's Chopper, Luffy gave me your number.”

That explained it, of course.

“Yeah, hi,” Law said, a little breathless, and then cut right to the chase. “Did you get it?”

A little huff in his ear. “Yeah, I did.”

“Alright. Do you have time to meet right now?”

“If I didn't I wouldn't have called,” Chopper said and Law could hear the nerves in the clipped tone of their voice. “But I have to say, I'm anxious to get rid of it...”

And Law was anxious to get it. The perfect match. He didn't mention that the theft could still be traced to Chopper – that would probably only make them get cold feet and back out, put the drugs back where they had gotten them. Law couldn't risk it.

“Should we meet at the bar?” Law asked and Chopper made a sceptical noise.

“Too many eyes,” they said, “it's almost opening time.”

Law removed his phone from his ear for a moment to look at the time. Chopper was right, by the time Law would arrive at the Thousand Sunny the place would be overrun with people looking for a drink after work. Too many eyes who could turn out to be potential witnesses if this went south.

“Okay,” he said. “Do you want to come to my place then?” Any public place would be too open – too cliché – for a deal of this kind. At Law's office Chopper could just pose as a client if they were questioned. Law almost felt like laughing about the nature of their unconventional drug deal.

“Uh, sure, I guess” Chopper said, sounding anything _but_ sure. “You just have to give me the address.”

Law did so very willingly.

  
  


Chopper knocked on his door an hour later, looking kind of frazzled when Law opened the door and for some reason that was also amusing to Law. Maybe he was finally losing it completely.

That was until he spotted Luffy behind Chopper. Did this kid just show up everywhere his friends went?

“I didn't expect you here,” Law said, directed at Luffy and sighed. “Come in then.”

Chopper shuffled through the door, obviously very uncomfortable, while Luffy followed and grinned at Law. “I had a little free time so I thought I'd tag along.”

“Don't you work today?” Law asked, disgruntled and Luffy shook his head. Law let the door fall shut.

“Not for another few hours. Today's my long day at college so Zoro usually takes the early shift.”

“Ah,” Law made, noncommittal, as neutral as possible, and looked back at Chopper. “Thank you for doing this.” Manners, manners were important sometimes.

Chopper shrugged. “It's for Rebecca, so I'm okay with it being both illegal and terrifying.”

Law found that not all illegal things were terrifying, and definitely most terrifying things weren't illegal, but he understood very well what Chopper meant.

Luffy pushed Chopper into Law's office without asking and Law walked after them with the distinct feeling that Luffy had already somehow become comfortable in his apartment. How, after only having been here once, he had no idea, but the feeling wouldn't budge.

Chopper remained standing in the middle of the room while Luffy let himself fall into one of the chairs in front of Law's desk and grinned up at both of them. Law tried to ignore him as best as he could, focusing on Chopper instead, who was fidgeting under his gaze.

“Did you have any trouble?” Law asked and Chopper shook their head.

“They're probably going to notice that it's gone eventually but I didn't cause a ruckus and I'm not very remarkable in appearance so...,” they mumbled, trailing off, obviously trying to lull themselves into a false sense of security. Law let it slide and only nodded, stretching out his hand.

Chopper eyed him with the same suspicion Law had seen in their eyes in the bar the last time they had seen each other, but eventually reached into their bag and produced a paper bag. They handed it over with a sigh that encompassed something akin to finality.

If only, Law wished. If only it was so easy that after acquiring the drug his hunt – their hunt? - was already basically over. It wouldn't be for a while yet, he feared.

Law peered into the bag.

“It was the best I could do,” Chopper said, a hint of apology in their tone.

The paper bag contained two syringes – the less important part of the raid, Law could get syringes without bigger problems arising – and five bottles of Sufentanil. It wasn't much less than what Law had hoped for but it also didn't allow for much trial and error. He smushed the top of the bag closed again and walked over to his desk to put it down. It would have to be enough.

“Thank you,” he said, sincerely, although it probably didn't sound that way to Chopper.

“You're welcome,” Chopper said and it sounded a little stuffy to Law, but he didn't really care.

“I guess now all that's left to do is find Doflamingo,” Luffy said and sounded so cheerful that it made Law shudder. How someone could have that approach to Doflamingo – even Luffy, _especially_ Luffy – was a mystery to him. It wasn't good. It couldn't be healthy.

Then again, he shouldn't play health advocate.

“It probably won't be that easy,” he said, inwardly chasing the thoughts away, “and even after apprehending him I still have to get him to confess.”

“ _W_ _e_ have to get him to confess,” Luffy said.

Law was very close to grabbing the bag again and throwing it at him. Didn't he realize how dangerous this was? Was he delusional enough to think this was some kind of adventure? This wasn't going to be a walk in the park or a pleasure cruise.

Instead of lashing out he pursed his lips and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “One thing after the other,” he said to avoid further arguments.

“I think we should get going,” Chopper said and Law could almost feel the discomfort radiating off them, wondered if they could smell the tension coming from him.

“Aw, fine,” Luffy pouted and Law's shoulders fell in relief. He couldn't think properly about what to do next with those two around.

  


  


  


Law was still watching Luffy and Chopper's retreating backs down his hallway when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took one cursory glance at the display before answering. _Corazón_.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hello little brother,” Corazón's cheerful voice came over the line. “Someone owes me dinner”

Law was getting a little tired of having to communicate with everyone over the phone all the time. What had happened to texting and email? Why did everyone always want to _talk_?

“I _owe_ you dinner? Who's the rich one here?” he scoffed. “I only agreed to be there.”

Coazón laughed. “You owe it to me to show up. We don't even have to go out, I can cook.”

“Fine,” Law sighed. “Let's do dinner.” He didn't have it in him to disappoint Corazón once again. And he could use a break from constantly being on edge, probably. A healthy, regular meal was probably also good. And when in doubt, Corazón probably also had some very nice wine. Not Law's first choice of poison but it would do.

“Cool,” Corazón said. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure,” Law said. And that was that.

  


  


He ended up arriving at Corazón's house at the same time as his brother did the next day and had to help him carry a multitude of shopping bags – groceries and clothes, what else – into the elevator.

“Sorry,” Corazón said, not sounding sorry at all, his head peaking out over a gigantic paper bag full of iceberg salad and what Law thought had to be carrots and mushrooms, “I thought I was going to be faster.”

“You do that every time,” Law said and rolled his eyes but shifted the bag he was holding in his arms into a better position so he wouldn't accidentally drop it.

The elevator came to a stop and the door opened just as Corazón chuckled. “Well, I don't get to cook for my little brother every day,” he said.

Law snorted and pushed through the doors first. “That's because you couldn't cook properly until a while ago.”

“That's a filthy lie!” Corazón hurried after him, somehow trying to balance the bag he was carrying while trying to look for his keys. “I could cook, I just wasn't as _amazing_ at it as I am now.”

“That lie is even more concerning,” Law deadpanned and watched Corazón struggle for a moment before he sighed and put his own bag down to take the other one from Corazón who was then free to smile at him – again – and finally get his keys from his coat pocket.

Law was still mildly concerned by Corazón's door having two locks and a deadbolt but he didn't comment on it. Everyone dealt in their own way, he presumed.

Again Law shuffled through the door first while Corazón picked up the bag Law had set down and then closed the door behind them again. Law kicked off his boots – not needing his hands in this endeavor through years of training this particular skill – and continued on into the kitchen where he dropped his bag of groceries onto the counter.

  


  


Corazón started preparing the meal by himself but Law joined him in cutting carrots eventually, mostly because he felt useless when he just sat around while other people were busy. It made him itchy, almost anxious.

“How is... the case going?” Corazón asked finally, cautiously and Law made a pained noise.

“I wish you hadn't asked that,” he said, flicking a piece of carrot peel into the trash.

Corazón halted in rinsing the mushrooms and looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because now I can't avoid asking you for a favor anymore.”

“Are you kidding?” Corazón was at Law's side in a single step. “What can I do?”

“I need you to talk about Rebecca on your show.” It was the single worst thing he had had to say or do that day, and he had already had to step over dog shit earlier.

Corazón grimaced. “It's a lifestyle show, Law...”

“Being in prison is a lifestyle,” Law mumbled and started attacking the carrots with a knife again. “I know it sucks but you have to have noticed how the media treat her. That won't help her case.” He hesitated for a moment but then soldiered on. “People trust you. You can convince them that this is real.”

“Because I back up my claims,” Corazón said, procuring a pan from somewhere. “And I'm not very inclined to share my entire life story – or well, the carefully hidden parts that people don't know – on air.”

“I know,” Law said, he would feel the same, felt the same, “I'm not asking you to. But please. Help me help Rebecca.”

Corazón set down the pan on the stove and then looked at Law again, quiet for a moment before he gave a slight shrug. “I'll think about it, okay?”

Law nodded. “Thank you,” he said, because an 'I'll think about it' was almost a yes with Corazón.

They worked in silence for a few minutes until their stir fry was sizzling in the pan on its own to a satisfactory degree that Corazón could turn around and look directly at Law.

“Anything else that's new?” he asked and somehow it felt like he was suspicious, like he knew that Law had gotten involved with Luffy far more than he should have. Far more than he already had been.

But really, then he would've asked outright. Corazón was too protective and too up in Law's shit for passive questions.

“Uh,” he made before he caught himself. “I got the drugs.”

“Why didn't you _lead_ with that?” Corazón yelped and Law quickly pulled him further away from the stove before he accidentally set himself on fire in his surprise. They stared at each other for a moment, Corazón wide-eyed and Law with the resignation he had built up over years of dealing with his brother and his many emotions.

Then Law let him go and took a step back, shrugging. “The hard part had to come first.”

Corazón smiled softly. “You wanted to get that over with, didn't you?”

“Maybe.”

“What are you going to do know?” Corazón wanted to know and Law grimaced.

“I guess I'll have to find him,” he mumbled.

Neither of them were happy about that, at all, but it had to be done. Corazón looked like he wanted to lecture Law but Law intercepted the oncoming rant with a raised hand.

“I'll be as careful as I can, I promise. But I'm the only person who can do this.”

“We've been over this. You're really not.”

Law squared his jaw. “Well, I'm going to keep you out of harm's way at any cost. That's why the talk show favor doesn't sit right with me, either. But I'm not prepared to let you jump into this full-force again.”

Corazón sighed.

“We're not going to fight about this again,” he said. “But, you know, I just want you to remember that you don't have to be alone in this.”

“Okay,” Law said and hoped that they could switch the topic after.

  


  


He found his counter point again in the middle of a bite of bellpepper and zucchini.

“I'm not,” he said, blurting it out before he could think better of it.

Corazón looked up in confusion. “What?”

“I'm not alone in trying to defend Rebecca,” Law said and put down his silverware, biting his lip. He had said too much now, Corazón would want to know more. But he hadn't been able to tell Tsuru, an impulse control that he was lacking with Corazón for some godforsaken reason. And now Corazón was looking at him expectantly and Law had to see this through. “Her friends are pretty determined to help. And um... it's kind of a shitty coincidence with the city being so big, but Monkey D. Luffy is one of them and he's stubborn enough to show up at my door.”

He looked down at his plate after, wondering if Corazón was disappointed. This was the opposite of what they had – reluctantly – agreed on. Law should have kept away.

“Law,” Corazón said and Law could hear that he was trying to be as neutral as possible. He looked up. “Does he know?”

Law shook his head. “Not yet.” He picked his fork back up to listlessly stab a mushroom. “But I guess I'll have to tell him eventually.”

“Be careful,” Corazón said.

“I am,” Law said, “but the longer I wait the worse it's going to be.”

“He's going to feel... betrayed,” Corazón said diplomatically and Law almost had to laugh at that.

“Yeah...”

They resumed eating and Law wondered if this was why other people didn't talk about their jobs at the dinner table. But his job was his life, or his life had become his job, intertwined and interchangeable in a cruel twist of fate. He couldn't escape it.

Maybe the devil was responsible for Law's sins, but he had to bear the weight.

  


  


Once they had put the dirty dishes into the dishwasher after dinner, Corazón carefully touched Law's arm. “I want to show you something.”

Law turned to follow him, feeling a little queasy but unable to deny his brother the request.

“You're obviously not going to believe me, no matter how often I tell you, but I want to try one more time,” Corazón mused as he led Law down the hallway and Law felt a little lost, confused as to what this was about.

They stopped in front of a door Law was too familiar with and Corazón pushed down the handle while Law shoved his hands into his pockets. The door swung open to reveal the floor covered with mats, gym equipment at the far wall, a punching bag next to the window.

“You turned my old room into a gym?” Law asked, turning to Corazón with his eyebrows raised.

Law had lived with Corazón for a while a year ago – _after_ – while he had tried to piece himself back together and find a job worth living for.

Corazón grinned at him and shrugged. “Well, no one was living in it and I needed a place to train.”

“To train?” Law echoed.

“Just because I'm not part of the program anymore doesn't mean I'm gonna let myself go,” Corazón said, moving a little further into the room, Law following him like a piece of paper in his wake. “I work hard on this body, otherwise I wouldn't get hired.

Law snorted. “I'm sure Hollywood hates you.”

“Do you want me to demonstrate?” Corazón grinned at him.

Law sniffed and shook his head. “No, thank you, I have faith in your deadly superspy skills.”

„And that's exactly it,“ Corazón said. „Because you _should_ have faith in my abilities.“

Law removed his hands from his pockets just to cross his arms and level Corazón with a doubtful look. “I just said that I did.”

“Beyond this,” Corazón sighed, motioning at the mats. “I can take care of myself, Law. I've seen how terrible and dirty and unfair life is, but I can take it. I've been there.”

Law cringed. So that was what Corazón was trying to tell him. The cutting out issue again. The – completely rational – urge to keep Corazón safe and out of harm's way. They had fought about this so many times – even before it had become rational again, when Corazón _had_ been perfectly safe and Law still had kept his distance. But it always boiled down to this: Law had seen him almost die once and he wouldn't let it happen again.

“Law,” Corazón said, more insistent this time. “You need to listen to me. You're starting to let me in again, and that's good. But I'm my own person and I make my own decisions, and I can defend myself. No one is going to touch me if I don't want them to. Never again.”

“You can't promise that,” Law said, desperate, and took a step back. “You can't promise anyone that. Not yourself and not me.”

“I'm not going to be defenseless against my brother.” Corazón sounded sure, hard as steel, and the expression in his eyes was something Law hadn't seen on him in a long time. “Just trust me on that.”

Law took a deep breath and then let it all out very slowly. He knew he had no other choice, the he couldn't keep agonizing about this, over and over again. But he didn't know how. Obsessing was what he did.

“Just try,” Corazón said, as if he knew what Law was thinking.

And Law let his shoulders fall and nodded. It was the least he could do.

  


  


  


  


Corazón texted Law again after he had gotten home. He was sitting cross-legged on his sofa, looking at his Laptop again and biting on the nails of his left hand.

Corazón, 11:37pm: _I'm go_ _ing_ _to ask Tsuru for a phone interview with Rebecca._

Law, 11:39pm: _thank you_

Now he had done his part; Tsuru only had to agree. And Law bet she would, with her not having to be the one to agree with Rebecca. It was ugly and it was vile, but he hadn't expected anything else.

  


  


  


  


It took a few days to set up and organize – especially since Corazón's show was only once a week and the guest for that week had already been chosen, so squeezing in a different topic had been a harsh fight with the producer – but eventually all the details were hashed out. Corazón would talk about his brother on a national radio station.

Law didn't understand why his nerves were once again the worst of all, but he couldn't help sitting outside the recording booth with his leg bouncing and his hands shaking. He felt like something was going to go horribly wrong, like something was not right about this, but Corazón seemed perfectly fine behind his microphone, giving Law a thumbs up through the glass.

He would be listening, somewhere out there.

He would be listening to Rebecca talk and think about Law.

Law started reciting the periodic table to himself under his breath. The lesser form of the streets. He wasn't panicking, he was only nervous.

Or so he told himself.

He had to fight the urge to call this entire thing off, because Rebecca wanted to do this, and Doflamingo was already thinking about Law, no matter what he did. Rebecca wanted to fight, so that's what Law and Corazón had to do.

  


  


Corazón pulled the microphone closer and adjusted his headphones.

Law's pulse thrummed against his throat.

“We're now live with Rebecca, who agreed to talk to me about her situation.”

Law knew that Tsuru was there with Rebecca, holding the phone for her in the cold visitor's room, but he tried not to imagine it. She was still there when she didn't have to be.

The first few exchanges of the conversation were nothing much but a buzz in his ears, his head too full of static to listen.

“Can you tell us a little about what it was like?” Corazón was asking when Law tuned back in.

There was a short pause before Rebecca spoke. “He made me call my mom on her birthday,” she said quietly, almost whispered. “And I wanted to tell her something was wrong, that I was in trouble, that I wanted to go home. That he was making me do things.”

“What things?” Corazón asked softly.

“Things that I'd never done before,” Rebecca said and it could have sounded like a line from a novel, but instead it was so wrong and Law felt sick right down to his core. “Things that I never _would_ do.”

Corazón pursed his lips, now looking a little closer to what Law felt like. “But you didn't tell her any of those things...”

“It was still there, in my head, but only like an echo,” Rebecca sighed and Law lowered his head a little, his fingernails clawing into the fabric of his jeans.

“Can you describe what was happening?” Corazón leaned back a little after asking the question, pressing a hand to his chest and Law could feel the producer looking at him, as if this was somehow _his_ fault. Maybe it was.

Rebecca was quiet for a moment – thinking, most likely – before her voice came back over the line. “All I could feel was this... need. He said 'Wish her a happy birthday' and somehow that was suddenly the only thing I wanted to do in life.”

Law shifted in his seat, his thighs burning from tension. He wanted to jump up and run away but that would make him no better than Dr. Hiluluk, maybe than Doflamingo himself.

“That was the last time I spoke to her,” Rebecca continued, “before... before she came to find me.”

Law wondered if breathing was as hard for her as it was for him.

“And the entire time you were with Doflamingo you were aware that you were being controlled by him?” Corazón asked.

“Not at first,” Rebecca said, “but then I started getting these... I don't know... glimpses of myself. Of what I should be like, of what I should be doing. And I tried to hold on to that, to myself, but... I wasn't strong enough.”

Corazón looked up, directly at Law through the glass, and Law had to avert his eyes, biting his lip, his gaze fixed on his hands to focus on his breathing.

Rebecca was crying now.

“When he told me to do that to my mom, I... I... I fought it. I fought him in my head. I really tried. I tried so hard. But he... his powers were stronger than me. I couldn't...”

“Rebecca, did you love your mother?” Even Corazón's voice sounded a little shaky now.

“Yes! So much!” Her tears being so audible over the phone, over the radio, made Law ashamed for himself. He should have protected her. She should not have to cry for millions of people to hear.

“Did you want to shoot her?”

Law exhaled slowly.

“No!” Rebecca said, insistently. Good.

“Then why did you do it?”

It had to sound like a crossfire exam, Law knew that. But that didn't make it better.

“Because Doflamingo wanted me to. Because he _made_ me.”

Law didn't want to hear any more of this. He wanted to leave. But before he could get up, Tsuru's voice came over the speakers.

“As you can see, Rosinante, my client's delusion is quite fully formed.”

And Law was on fire again. That wretched, lying lawyer. He thought he could trust her, at least with this, with this one case, this one thing that couldn't be twisted to her advantage.

As seemed Corazón. “Delusion?” he asked. “You're saying she's not telling the truth?”

“That she was made to kill her own mother through telepathy?” Tsuru shot back. “It's unprecedented, let me say it like this.”

“As is having a government official expelled for melting stone,” Corazón said coldly – and there was the steel again, “but it happened. Buildings were destroyed and people got hurt.” There was a miniscule break between sentences where Corazón slightly turned his head towards Law again. “Perhaps what happened to Rebecca has happened to others before.”

Law grit his teeth and slightly shook his head.

“Well, yes, if there is other people who have encountered this Doflamingo... character and have been controlled by him they are certainly welcome to contact my office,” Tsuru said and for a moment Law had hope, until she continued with, “but it is far more likely that my client had a psychotic break.”

Law closed his eyes. He wanted to kill her so badly, and he didn't know what was worse, having her discredit Rebecca like this or feeling like he wanted to do bodily harm to a mostly innocent person again.

“Rebecca has no history of mental illness,” Corazón said, tearing his eyes away from Law, frowning in the vague direction of his microphone. “And has shown no evidence since-”

“Rosinante,” Tsuru said, “it sounds like you believe this Doflamingo is real.”

Law growled. “What a _bitch_ ,” he said, earning a disapproving look from the producer. She had set Corazón up for this, had set them both up for this and now this radio interview that should have be a step towards saving Rebecca was hurtling towards becoming a pandora's box that Law desperately didn't want anyone to open for the world to see what was inside.

Corazón and Law met eyes again and Law could see Corazón sigh inaudibly, his shoulders rising. “I believe it's naive to assume he isn't,” he said diplomatically and Law almost had to laugh. Doflamingo would have his head for that one. “So yes, I believe he's out there. This sick, perverted _coward_. _”_

Law stared for the first few seconds, in wide-eyed horror. What was Corazón _doing_?

“He preys on hopeless people to make himself feel good and powerful.”

Law was out of his seat now, standing right up at the glass window with his fists raised. “No! Shut up!” _Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!_

He couldn't do this.

“He made an innocent girls kill her own mother to achieve his goals. That is disgusting. He's probably terrified of his own weakness so much that he isn't human anymore.”

Emotions were a dangerous thing, doubly so with family, and Corazón's were getting the better of him.

Law turned towards the producer. “You need to cut his mic!”

The producer shook her head. “We're in the middle of a broadcast.”

“Right now!” Law insisted. He had to end this before it all went up in flames and smoke.

“Probably suggests some serious oedipal issues or other former fucked up family life that he lets out on innocent human beings.”

Law wanted to scream. But instead he stormed into the recording booth, causing Corazón to pause in the middle of saying “Sadistic, corrosive men like him s-” and cover the microphone with a hand that was shaking with anger.

“You can't do this,” Law hissed.

“No, _you_ can't do this,” Corazón hissed back, yanking his headphones off and Law hoped that the producer had finally switched off the microphone now. “Get out!”

Law pushed the microphone out of the way violently, almost breaking it off at the hinges. “You can't talk to him like this,” he insisted. “He's listening. He'll hear you.”

“I can talk to him in whichever way I want,” Corazón said loudly, suddenly on his feet to pull a different microphone closer to him. “He'll hear the truth, nothing more, nothing less.”

“He doesn't _want_ the truth.”

They stared at each other for a few agonizing seconds

  


“We've got a few calls coming in,” said the producer from outside the booth, now also plugged into the broadcast. “Let's start with Susan.”

Corazón adjusted his new microphone and pulled his headphones back onto his ears.

“ _Hey Rosinante_ ,” Susan whoever started, “ _I wan-_ ” She didn't get further than that because Law violently hit the button on Corazón's desk that would end the call.

“You're gonna piss him off,” he said, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. For all he knew, Doflamingo wouldn't just have Corazón's head for this. He would have his entire existence.

“Good,” Corazón said, his eyes ablaze.

“No, not good!” Law wailed. Why could he not see that?

“He doesn't get to run around destroying lives, destroying our lives, destroying _your_ life anymore,” Corazón growled. “That ends now. I'm not going to sit here and shut up.”

“Yes, you will!” Law screamed. “Until I neutralize him!”

Corazón pushed him back with one hand, signaling to the producer with the other to continue.

“Next caller.”

“ _This is my first time calling, but I've been listening for a_ long _time_ ,” the voice said over the speakers and Law froze where he had taken a step back. “Rosinante _, I want to... hmm, applaud your courage._ ”

They locked eyes over the microphone, both of their expressions filled with the same wide-eyed terror. Law felt his knees giving out.

“ _You've always been a hero to the downtrodden._ ”

Law would have recognized that voice in a sea of a million others. He was too haunted, too _hunted_ by it in his dreams to ever be able to forget it.

 

The devil had abandoned hell to come and burn their hope.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > enter villain ;)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh, thank you for over 1000 hits :D
> 
> this chapter contains some more (voicing of) suicidal ideation (or something along the lines) and descriptions of needles

 

Law didn't think he would ever be able to move from where he was holding onto the edge of Corazón's desk. He wished death would claim him so he could escape.

“ _Y_ _ou never had any self-preservation to speak of, really._ ”

If he had thought that breathing was hard before, it was downright impossible now. He choked down another mouthful of air and stared at his white knuckles on the wood before movement in the corner of his eye made him look up.

Corazón was shaking.

“ _Your approach to life is admirable._ ”

Law wanted to scream but his mouth wouldn't open, his throat would form no sounds, so he was left to only look at Corazón, trying to determine if he was shaking from fear or anger. It had to be both.

“But if there really is someone with the abilities you described, someone who could make anyone anywhere do whatever he wanted him to do, seems to me that insulting him would be wildly... irresponsible a risk.”

This was literally Law's worst nightmare.

“Or, in my words, very fucking stupid.”

Law wanted to hit the end-call button again, wanted to rip the microphone off its stand, wanted to get Corazón out of here and leave the city, never to return. But he had made a pledge now and he couldn't back down, not again.

“Everyone has feelings even, uh, how did you say? Sadistic, corrosive men.”

The words weren't even the worst part. No, the thing that made Law want to throw up and bury himself in the ground was the _voice_ , that voice that had whispered nothings and everythings to him for months without reprieve or escape.

Corazón looked like he wanted to get up, he was half out of his chair, ready to fight an invisible but very real enemy.

“Aren't you worried he might make you want to do something? To yourself? Or worse...”

Law couldn't take this. His shoulders were starting to hurt, the tension too high in his body.

There was a slight chuckle in the silence, then: “I'll take my answer off the air, of course.”

Corazón threw a look at his producer and slid the headphones off his head, his face white as a sheet. There would be no answer, no matter who could hear it.

The line clicked off without another word.

Corazón was now fully out of his chair and by Law's side in a flash.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

Law shook his head. Of course he was not fucking alright. He was so far from it that all words had lost their meanings, that the feeling was indescribable to a degree that evaded thought.

He looked at Corazón, the question evident in his eyes.

“Me neither,” Corazón mumbled.

They looked at each other for a moment before the producers voice tore them from their bubble, announcing that the broadcast had to be cut short due to technical issues.

Law's hands twitched. Their issues were anything but technical.

“Let's go,” Corazón said and for a moment Law thought his flight instinct had kicked in too, but then he realized that he meant 'let's go home'. Law would take it.

Anywhere but here with the memories of the voice in his ears so fresh was acceptable.

  
  


  
  


“I told you,” Law said when they were sitting in a quiet corner of the corridor a few minutes later, huddled on the floor because any chairs had been too far away and in too close proximity to other human beings. They hadn't made it to the ground floor, both their legs giving out despite their flight responses. “I told you not to provoke him.”

Corazón gave a low sigh and took a big gulp from his water bottle instead of answering, offering the water to Law after, still stubbornly quiet. Law took the water, not because he was particularly thirsty but because he needed something to do, something to busy his limbs and hide the shaking of his hands with.

“He's just trying to scare us,” Corazón finally said. “He hasn't even done anything yet.”

Law lowered the bottle and looked at Corazón with helpless desperation. “But he will.”

There was another beat of silence, then Corazón took back the bottle and pushed himself to his feet. “I guess then we will have to deal with that.”

He seemed far too level headed already for just having heard Doflamingo's voice for the first time in over a year. It infuriated Law. It was like Corazón was too close and too far away at the same time, his reaction felt simultaneously too rational and too irrational.

“He could be on his way to kill you _right now_ ,” Law said, still firmly rooted on the floor. If he got up he would probably start running, to never stop again, to leave all this madness behind him permanently.

“I thought I showed you that I could kick his ass into the next century,” Corazón said. “And he'll learn that too. Plus he's too much of a coward to come to try and kill me himself.” He extended his hand out towards Law with a wobbly smile.

Law looked at him for a moment. “Why did I have to end up with you?” he asked, and eventually took the hand he was offered. He didn't have another choice, not with Corazón.

“Who knows,” Corazón said, pulling him up, “but now you're stuck with me for life, little brother.”

  
  


They managed to make their way to the building's lobby through leaning on each other, picking up the pace after they exited the elevator.

“I would do it though,” Corazón said suddenly after a prolonged silence and Law threw him a confused glance.

“What?”

“I'd fight him,” he clarified. “If I could resist his powers. I'd fight and kill him.”

Law willed his legs to keep walking instead of stopping short. “I know,” he said, “but you can't. We can't. We need him to _talk_ first, ironically.”

Corazón laughed joylessly.

“I can't believe Tsuru set you up,” Law growled, pulling his sleeves over his fingers to fist his hands into the fabric. “Just so she wouldn't have to admit to a mind control Devil Fruit existing. Incredible.”

“It's not...” Corazón sighed. “It's not entirely her fault. She set me up but I shouldn't have fallen for it.”

Law shook his head. “She's _smart_. But still, I thought she was fucking better than this.”

“Lawyers are ruthless,” Corazón mumbled. “Why do you think I never wanted to become one?”

The corner of Law's mouth quirked up but apart from that he tried not to show a reaction. “Well, yeah. But still, she put you in Doflamingo's cross hairs.”

Law almost couldn't keep up with what happened next, despite being hyper vigilant and having been on edge constantly for weeks, despite his heightened senses of the past minutes.

Corazón was about to answer when someone suddenly grabbed his shoulder and Corazón turned in one swift motion, jabbing his hand against the person's sternum while kicking their legs out from under them, making them topple to the ground with a shout.

Law had jumped into a fighting position immediately but could only stare, terrified, directing his gaze from the assailant to Corazón and back.

“I'm sorry,” the man on the floor wheezed.

Then Law saw the picture and pen lying next to him and his phone; the realization that he hadn't been someone sent by Doflamingo set in soon after.

“Oh no,” Corazón said silently, then repeated it a little louder. “Oh no. No, I'm sorry, you're a fan, I should have realized. I'm so so sorry.”

Law took a step back and tried to relax a little while Corazón continued to apologize profusely, crouching down next to the man.

“We need to go,” Law urged now. He didn't even know where, but his heart was still beating in his throat and he wanted to _leave_. “You can save your reputation later.”

“Shut up,” Corazón hissed before turning back to the man who had now sat up again. “Here, let me sign that. I'm really sorry, I'm a little jumpy today.”

Law stood there with the tremors in his hands setting in again – he had to shove them into his pockets – while Corazón gave the man a goddamn autograph and took a _selfie_ with him. When had his survival instinct been replaced with the insatiable need to please?

Finally Corazón got up from his crouch – after apologizing one more time – and joined Law again.

“I need a drink,” Law said, his heartbeat slowly going back to normal levels after this revelation.

Corazón stared at him while simultaneously walking faster. “A _drink_? You have got to be kidding me.”

Law scoffed. “What did you think how I would deal with this? Go home with you and eat salad? Eat cookies at home? Go to _sleep_? You know me, Cora. It's not happening.”

“You can't just-,” Corazón started before stopping himself and taking a deep breath. “You can't keep fleeing into the arms of alcohol.”

“Watch me,” Law said but directed his gaze at his shoes anyway, like a scolded child. “Sounds to me like you're the one romanticizing it anyway. I know what I'm doing to myself, believe me.”

An early death was preferred for him, really.

“Fine,” Corazón snapped.

Law sighed. “You go home, please. He _will_ come after you now.”

“Stop saying that,” Corazón said. “I know. I can deal with it.”

“Okay,” Law said – and walked away, hoping, _praying_ that Corazón would take care, that this day wouldn't end with the death of another person Law couldn't live without.

This was why he hated getting close to people.

  
  


  
  


  
  


He had wanted to go to a store to get his whiskey but somehow, through some subconscious fuck-up, his feet carried him back to Luffy's bar; and while he cursed every deity he knew and himself on top of it he still went in.

Because he needed a drink right now and maybe also some company who _understood_.

Sue him for being human.

Everything was contradictory and undesirable, until it was in front of him. So he pushed inside, because he needed this right now.

Luffy took one look at him when he came through the doors and reached for a glass already; it was filled by the time Law took a seat at the bar.

“We listened to the broadcast,” he said, when Law pulled the hood off his head and slumped forward, pulling the glass towards him gratefully.

“What a disaster,” he mumbled and took a swig. He hadn't considered that he would have to talk about the entire clusterfuck if he went here, but it was too late not, and ironically he even felt like talking about it. While drowning his sorrows, of course. But still. Letting it out.

“Was that really him?” Luffy asked.

Law almost wanted to let his head hit the counter top. “Yes,” he said instead.

“Are you okay?” Luffy immediately continued his questioning and Law only looked up for a moment to tip the glass back again.

He found himself saying “No... No, I'm not” instead of the answer about how idiotic, how redundant, how senseless that question was and downed the rest of the glass in retaliation against his traitorous brain.

When he looked up again for a second, Luffy looked pensive, chewing on his lower lip and Law almost wanted to tell him to spit it out, but then another patron called for Luffy's attention and the moment passed.

Luffy returned a few minutes later to refill Law's glass but then he was gone again, lost in the busy bustle of the bar and Law tried not to care. Instead of the cheery barkeeper, Robin sidled up to take the spot next to him that had just become vacant.

“He sounded like he was familiar with Corazón,” she said – she might as well have punched Law in the stomach.

How much could he tell – could he _admit_ to – these people?

“He is,” he admitted after a moment and he couldn't even blame his honesty on the alcohol, because one glass didn't have any effect on him, no matter how much he would like it to.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Luffy return to their corner of the bar.

“It's... vengeance, mostly,” he said after another second of hesitation, “retaliation for things we – Corazón and I – did.” He drank again.

“Sounds like there's a story there,” Luffy said, frowning slightly and Law almost had to laugh. The kid didn't know the half of it. He didn't know anything.

“Yes,” he simply said.

“I knew you'd have to have encountered Doflamingo before,” Robin said and the name almost made Law flinch. So they were back to this. A year of suffering and progress gone in an instant. “But I didn't think it was so... personal.”

They were all quiet for a minute, the voices of the other people of the bar filtering back in, while Law stared at his glass and wondered if he should tell them. Tell them how despicable he really was. Make them kick him out of the bar and their lives and never want to look at him again except with hate.

“I can't tell you. Not here, not now,” he said. “Maybe not ever. I'm sorry.” And then he finished his second glass.

“That's alright,” Luffy shrugged.

It really wasn't.

“This is all only happening because I am alive,” Law said, not being finished yet, wanting some kind of affirmation that he was terrible, that this was all his fault, that he was _guilty_ for dragging Corazón back into this. “Nothing of this would have even had the capacity to happen if I was dead.”

Luffy shook his head vehemently. “No! Shut up!” He hesitated before adding, in a thoughtful tone, “Then it might be happening to someone else.”

“You know what,” Law said and paused for a moment to empty his glass into his parched throat for the third time that night, “I don't think it would.”

  
  


  
  


He bought an entire bottle off of Luffy in the end, just not to have to enter another store and potentially have to listen to another media crucification, maybe of Corazón this time.

He wanted to go home, drink himself into oblivion and sleep, despite the nightmares. They couldn't possibly show him a worse scenario than what he had already thought of in his waking state.

The way home was too silent, even though the city never slept, but Law tried not to drink too much out of the bottle until he got home. He needed to be able to find his keys, and not end up in a jail cell for the rest of the night.

By the time he made it home it was almost dawn, anyway, the sun declaring her rise over the city's roofs with a light tint to the night sky. Law collapsed on his sofa with no drive to ever get up again.

Maybe he would rot there.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


That week he lost time.

It might have been just a few hours, or an entire day, possibly more – the point was, he wasn't sure.

When he finally woke and tore out of his haze he couldn't read the date on his phone properly at first, but it was definitely significantly darker outside than it had been when he had finished the bottle of whiskey.

He sat up slowly, wondering how if he looked as disgusting as he felt and dragged himself to the bathroom to splash cold water in his face and brush his teeth, carefully avoiding the look in the mirror.

When he got back to his office he checked his phone again. There were a few unanswered calls from Corazón and for a moment Law panicked and wondered if while he had been trying to drink himself into an early grave, Doflamingo had executed his revenge on Corazón. Maybe these calls where his last, frantic screams for help.

But when he listened to the four consecutive voice mail messages – one dated just a few hours ago – he found that they were filled with Corazón's concerned voice, asking where Law was and if he was alright, telling him that he hadn't left his apartment since he had gotten home after the broadcast. The second to last one was laced with anger, the last filled with panic.

“If you don't call me back soon I'm coming over there,” Corazón's voice told him and Law almost perceived it as a threat, even though it was only voiced out of concern, of wanting – needing – to know that Law was okay.

He tried to call back, just so Corazón wouldn't leave his relatively safe apartment, but there was no answer.

Now it was Law's turn again to be worried. His phone dying from lack of battery soon after didn't help and he angrily plugged it into the cord next to his bed when he hurriedly went to change his shirt, which had an undefinable stain down the front. Despite the way he had to smell he didn't bother with a shower, grabbing his keys and wallet again on the way out and shoving them in the pockets of his coat.

Hesitation overcame him for a heartbeat but then he doubled back to the office and dug one of the vials of Sufentanil and a syringe out of the top drawer, while he left his phone where it was. It was of no use to him like this anyway.

He needed to be with Corazón right now.

  
  


  
  


His feeling that something was glaringly, dramatically wrong only deepened on the way to Corazón's house and by the time Law entered the elevator he was almost vibrating with anxiety.

The door was open. The door was _wide_ open and the alarm wasn't blaring like it should be and Law was running.

He skidded into the living room and came to see a scene he had never wanted to imagine, let alone witness. There was a man in a police uniform kneeling on the floor, his hands around Corazón's throat, choking him.

There was no time to think. There was only action.

With two leaps Law was next to them and tore the man off Corazón, throwing him into the shelf next to them. His blood was burning white hot and his vision was going black at the edges, things he normally recognized as warning signs, reasons for him to back off. But he didn't have that privilege right now.

“Get off him!”

The guy went down, slumping onto the floor like he was glad to be defeated. His hat had fallen off somewhere in the struggle, revealing dyed hair in a faded pink, which caused Law to stop short for a moment and wonder if it was even allowed to dye your hair in the police force.

He was also younger than he had looked at first, his face betraying him despite his broad shoulders, and Law almost felt bad for him, until he heard Corazón's wheezing, labored intake of breath behind him.

Law should have been there earlier. He turned and went to his knees next to Corazón. “It's okay,” he said, lowering his voice instinctively, “I'm here.” He grit his teeth and brushed Corazón's hair off his forehead with his right while he gripped his hand with the other.

There was a scraping sound from where the attacker tried to heave himself up to his feet again, still on his knees and holding his side.

“Need... to kill... him,” he groaned and Law winced, squeezing Corazón's hand tighter for a moment.

This was only happening because they had been stupid enough to go public with their provocation.

The police officer – was he even old enough to be out of academy training already? – started crawling towards Corazón, to try and get his hands around his throat once more. Law shoved him away with his foot. He needed to find a way out of this situation, fast.

It was futile to try and argue. Doflamingo had taken this kid and had used him as a blank sheet to write on, to turn him into something he wouldn't recognize himself as.

Disgust welled up in Law but he pressed it down.

The weight of the Sufentanil in his coat pocket was suddenly so obvious, his awareness of it doubled. And he knew he had no other choice, no matter how scarce his resources were.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered to Corazón, whose eyes were still unfocused, before he aimed another kick at the police kid to disorient him a little more while Law took the syringe and drug out of his pocket.

He didn't have much time and he was only glad that his hands weren't shaking as bad as the last time he had tried something similar, his movements sure enough to press the needle into Corazón's flesh a few seconds later with his right hand, cradling Corazón's face comfortingly with his left.

“Kill...,” the kid mumbled again, closer than Law had thought he would be.

“You already did!” Law screamed, getting his act together quickly after letting his left hand slide from Corazón's cheek. “He's dead!”

The kid stared at Corazón's unconscious form for a few agonizing seconds but he was obviously too out of it to detect the faint breathing. Law let out his own breath slightly when he turned away and finally staggered to his feet precariously.

“Leave...,” he mumbled and Law was relieved. He would like nothing more than to see the kid's zombie-like figure leave.

Then he realized he was his best shot at finding Doflamingo. The kid would no doubt have been instructed to report once he had fulfilled his mission.

His mind worked fast – but not well enough to find a way that would bring him out on top. He had already used the Sufentanil on Corazón and he would have to follow the kid very closely, leaving Corazón alone on the cold floor of his apartment. In any other situation he would have used his phone, planting it in the kid's pocket while he called Corazón and then took his phone to have a better grip on the kid's whereabouts. But his phone was miles away, charging next to his bed.

Still, he had no other choice.

  
  


Law slid out of his coat for a moment, unzipping the hoodie he was wearing underneath and balled it together to lift Corazón's head and put it underneath as a makeshift pillow.

Then he waited on the floor while the kid haltingly left the room, until he heard the elevator doors slide closed in the hall.

“I'll be back soon,” he told Corazón and wondered if he was also promising the same thing to himself. “You just wait here.”

He had wanted to avoid doing this for a second time, all over, but it seemed like he was stuck in this nightmare and he would have to relive it. History liked to repeat itself, after all.

But there was nothing else he could do. It had been set up for him to do this and he had to follow the bait.

At least he had been able to save Corazón.

Doflamingo hadn't succeeded – and if Law had anything to say about it, he never would. Law would fight him tooth and nail, even if he hadn't had powers, even if he was useless against Doflamingo's mind tricks, even if it would cost him his life. He would give up everything willingly, just so Corazón could live. That was everything that Law wanted. A world in which Corazón could exist without Doflamingo.

  
  


  
  


He put his coat back on, took Corazón's key and closed the door behind him, the only measures he could take now to keep him safe.

He went for the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator to come back up.

It was really going to come down to luck here and Law had never had much of that, but he wouldn't let that stop him. He was going to make up for it with caution.

Following the kid was easier than he had expected; maybe he was still too out of it from being controlled or too dazed from what he had done, but he barely looked left and right where he was almost jogging down the street. Law followed him as closely as he dared, his head lowered so the kid wouldn't catch sight of his face in case he did turn around after all.

The slow chase didn't last longer than fifteen minutes, when the kid turned into a side street and almost immediately vanished into the entrance of a corner house.

Law debated his options for a second, hesitating just short of the steps to the house, but he had to follow the kid if he didn't want to loose him in the multiple stories of the house. So he pulled the hood on his coat up and pushed the door open.

He waited at the foot of the stairs, watching the elevator and counting the stories the kid climbed until he stopped at the last one – so he was going for the penthouse at the top of the house. Law felt almost satisfied for a second.

There was a good chance he would be able to sneak up to the roof and listen in without being detected.

Getting to the roof wasn't hard, the door wasn't even locked and Law once again marveled at how little the inhabitants of this multi-million people city where concerned with security. Then again, he had once lived with a broken lock for a few weeks a while back – but that was different.

He crept across the rough stone, the skylight of the penthouse coming up in front of him, and his heart jumped into his throat against his will. He didn't have the time or strength for his anxiety right now, but when had it ever listened to him and his wishes?

So he stood over the skylight with his hands shaking and his neck craned so he could look inside but wouldn't be spotted.

  
  


And then he saw him.

Doflamingo was sitting on the enormous sofa with his legs crossed and his arms thrown over the back rest, watching some sports show on the just as enormous TV.

Law almost lost his footing, would have fallen through the skylight in a hail of broken glass if his disgust hadn't make him jerk back.

His luck was bad, but it hadn't run out yet.

Doflamingo had been so close the entire time, just a few blocks away, watching them both.

He didn't have much time to regain is composure so sitting down on the roof was out of the question and the patience for even the street names was lost for him today. He would have to make do with his terrible nerves and fast-beating heart. So he moved back to the position from which he could see into the room with barely any obstruction but was sure not to be detected by Doflamingo.

There was the very faint, very muffled sound of a door opening and then the police kid appeared in Law's field of vision.

Doflamingo tipped his head back so he could see him without moving from the sofa.

“Ah, Coby,” he said, finally giving Law a moment to learn the kid's name. He raised a hand from the back of the sofa to motion for Coby to approach. “Come here.”

Coby did as he was told and Law wondered if Doflamingo's voice had been laced with a command or if Coby had simply nothing else, nothing better to do.

“Did you succeed?”

Coby bowed his head slightly. “Corazón is dead.”

“Excellent.” Doflamingo leaned forward and smiled widely, _wildly_ , and Law's entire body was suddenly covered in goosebumps. He grit his teeth and resisted the impulse to draw back. There was no way for Doflamingo to know that he was here.

“Trafalgar Law was there,” Coby continued, his voice monotone enough for Law to realize that he was still being controlled. “But he was too slow.”

_Lies_ , Law thought. But then again, Coby didn't know. For him, Corazón had died, and he had succeeded.

Doflamingo's mouth split – impossibly – even wider and if the grin had been off-putting before it was downright creepy now. “Good,” he crooned. “Tell me, did he suffer?”

“Yes,” Coby said and Law wanted to throw up.

“Mhm,” Doflamingo made. “You can go.”

Coby turned to leave and Doflamingo directed his attention back to the game he was watching. Law wanted to scream.

“Not that way,” he suddenly said, without taking his eyes off the screen, when Coby was halfway back to the door. He waved a hand in the direction of the patio. “That way.”

Law's blood ran cold.

He couldn't do this.

But Doflamingo was no sane person, and he would make people throw themselves off rooftop patios to get them out of the way if he felt like it.

Law ran to the edge of the roof where it ended to make space for the patio and hesitated there, his entire body shaking now and hoping desperately that Coby was strong enough not to do this. But he had seen this often enough to know that no one could escape Doflamingo, no matter how desperate or filled with brute strength they were.

Coby opened the glass door to the patio and walked across the tiles like in trance, until he reached the low wall that separated him from certain death. There he hesitated for a moment, as if he was aware of what he was about to do.

Law didn't think, he just moved. “Hey!” he yelled, then he lunged off the roof towards Coby. He couldn't let this happen.

Coby only half-turned towards him, but it was enough. Law hit the patio on all fours but was back on his feet within a fraction of a second, grabbing Coby's arm and throwing him across the tiles. “Don't you dare,” Law growled at the kid, now sprawled out on the floor.

When he looked up, he made eye-contact with Doflamingo on the other side of the glass, the other raised half out of his seat, his eyes wide in shock and wonder. And Law was unable to tear his gaze away.

He couldn't breathe.

Then Doflamingo's face split into a smile again and he gave a slight nod before turning swiftly and Law's first instinct was to follow him, to demand, to _hurt_. But then he heard Coby's labored breathing and looked over to see him getting onto the ledge of the patio.

He had the choice between confronting Doflamingo without a weapon and without the drugs or saving the kid's life. It wasn't much of a choice, really.

He wrenched Coby down from his precarious perch again, pinning him down on the floor. “Stop,” he told him but he knew that it wouldn't be enough, Coby was still struggling against him. Law grit his teeth, pressed out an “I'm sorry” and moved to sit on Coby's torso so he could hold down his arms with his knees while he gripped his head with both hands and hit it on the ground once, hard. Coby went slack immediately. Law grimaced and got up, but if he had done his job right, the kid would get away with a few nasty bruises and a concussion.

Law instinctively wiped his hands on his jeans as he got up.

The spot behind the glass was empty, the room deserted.

“You bastard,” Law said and pushed through the door. He couldn't have gotten far, it had only been half a minute.

  
  


  
  


But Law hadn't accounted for more mind-controlled lackeys. A man stepped out from behind the door and almost took the legs out from under Law, causing him to sink down on one knee and then having to dodge a swing by bending back his upper body.

“You can't follow him!” The man yelled.

Law had neither asked for a workout nor for yoga lessons and he was getting _very_ pissed off by this entire situation.

“Get out of my _fucking_ way!”

Of course the man didn't listen. Law didn't have the powers Doflamingo had and he didn't want them, not even in his nightmares, but people listening to him would be nice for a change. Law sent the man tumbling over the couch and slipped through the door, closing it behind him and pushing a nearby cabinet in front of it.

On the stairs to the lower level of the penthouse he got tripped, sending him falling down the last third of the steps.

Law groaned but immediately tried to get to his feet again, coming face to face with a kid even younger than Coby.

“You're just a _teenager_ ,” Law said, torn between exasperation and frustration. So the man upstairs was probably the father and owner of the penthouse. He felt tempted to repeat his sick bastard statement from earlier. An entire family, enslaved for Doflamingo's amusement, used as collateral, as hostages. All because he needed a strategic vantage point without wanting to pay rent.

Overpowering a lanky sixteen year old was easier than a fully grown man, but it also made Law feel even worse. But trying to argue with these people would lead nowhere, he knew that much.

He bound the kid's hands and feet together with a lamp cord and then moved on, hearing movement further down the hall. If it was another member of the family or Doflamingo he had no way of knowing, but he had to take that risk.

He crept down the hallway, a golfing trophy he had grabbed off a shelf at random gripped tightly in his hand.

Who would jump out at him next?

The younger sister? The other father? The wife? Doflamingo?

It was the wife, armed with a baseball bat, which Law's golfing trophy couldn't withstand. He let the shattered remnants fall to the floor and then ducked under another swing of the bat, throwing his leg out at the woman's ankles, sending her to the ground.

Was there anyone else left?

He didn't delude himself enough to think that Doflamingo was still here; he had to be long gone in the time it had taken Law to take down the three family members.

The woman grabbed at him again.

Law stepped on her hand and then picked her up to shove her struggling form into the utility closet at the end of the hall, slamming the door shut and turning the key that stuck out on the outside. Checkmate.

He took a moment to breathe, holding his side where the glass steps of the stairs had hit him particularly bad earlier. Then he straightened up again and turned.

The effects on the little family would wear off with time, now that Doflamingo had abandoned his lair in their home.

It was silent now but when Law listened into it he heard a faint, strange whirring sound from two rooms over.

Law had no other weapon, but he crept closer to investigate it anyway. As the whirring grew louder, so did his certainty that there were no other people in the penthouse – the noise was mechanical and by the time Law entered the room he had realized that it was a printer, spilling out page after page.

But what made Law stop short halfway into the room was what exactly it was printing.

The entire room was placated with his face, Law's face. A thousand times over, blown up and taped together in a giant poster that showed every pore.

Law's hands started shaking harder than ever and he wanted to look away, but there was nowhere safe he could have averted his eyes to. Every wall bore his face and when his gaze fell to the printer, it spit out one more page of him, taken in profile, his face a dark shadow under his hood.

He tore that picture off the table, grabbed a few of the others and rolled them up, shoving them into the pocket of his coats.

He was never going to escape the images. Or Doflamingo.

But he would try.

  
  


He left the room, slamming the door behind him in an attempt to shout out the flashbacks and was halfway down the stairs to the street again when he remembered Coby.

The effect of Doflamingo's powers wouldn't have broken yet be the time he woke up again.

So Law spit out a curse and doubled back.

Lugging the kid all the way down to street level, even with the help of the elevator, was laborious and made Law sweat but it also distracted him from his impending panic attack – thank fuck.

He didn't have much time left. When he had Coby dragged to the side of the building that was in the lesser frequented of the streets it stood on the kid was already groaning, regaining his consciousness. Law cast a glance to the sky to make sure the approximate position was alright and then dumped himself and Coby both into a pile of tightly filled trash bags.

“Wha-?” Coby made, when Law started shaking him.

“You jumped!” Law said accusingly, barely even trying with the acting this time. The kid's eyes were still unfocused and one of his hands went to the back of his head instinctively. He grimaced.

“You... you caught me?” he asked, incredulous.

“I had to do something,” Law shrugged. “We're lucky this _garbage_ was here.”

Coby seemed to want to say more, starting several sentences along the lines of “What happened?” but Law just shook his head.

“You jumped,” he said. “You did what he told you to do, it's over.” Then he took one of the pictures out, just for a minute. “Did you take these?”

Coby shook his head. “No, I don't... No.”

Law sighed. “Do you know who did?”

Another shake of the head.

Another goddamn mystery, then.

“Go home,” Law told him. He intended to do the same.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the super long break, my internship threw off my whole routine :(  
> and then this chapter just kept getting longer and longer. i was going to put even more into it but ultimately decided to split it!
> 
> thank you for sticking with me!

 

Law didn't want to see anyone, talk to anyone, or even acknowledge anyone existed. Because that would make it real.

But Luffy found him anyway, early the next morning. The banging at his door was very hard to ignore, but Law tried. Clearly Luffy was very stubborn and very enduring though because he kept knocking and yelling for Law for over ten minutes until Law gave in.

They didn't need to cause a ruckus with the neighbors. Or any _more_ ruckus, for that matter.

He dragged himself to the front door and wrenched it open.

“What do you want?” he hissed, too aware of how red his eyes had to be and how his general appearance had to resemble a ghost more than a living human being. Funny. He would have liked to be the former.

“Can I come in?” Luffy asked, a smile on his face and Law wanted to punch him. Law wanted to punch him so badly, him and his constant good mood and endless positivity.

“Will you start knocking down my door again if I say no?” he shot back, his voice almost giving out on him halfway through the question.

Luffy shrugged. “Maybe,” he said and Law groaned, opening the door wider.

“Fine,” he ground out, “I don't know what the fuck you want here but sure, come in.” _Make my day even worse._

The smile on Luffy's face widened again and he skipped over the threshold happily, which made Law want to punch him even more. “I didn't bring any alcohol, if that's alright,” he said, still sounding too cheery. “But I have breakfast!”

Law noticed the bakery paper bags in his hand for the first time as he closed the door behind Luffy.

Oh, goddammit. He was here to _feed_ him and probably wanted to talk.

“I'm not hungry,” he said sharply. Really, he would have rather had Luffy bring alcohol and deposit it at his doorstep before leaving again without saying a word, since he was still out of liquor, but apparently that wasn't Luffy's style.

Luffy tilted his head to the side. “Are you sure?” he asked. “When was the last time you ate something?”

Law wanted to scream. It wasn't relevant. It didn't matter when he had eaten for the last time.

Except, of course it did matter, but he didn't want it to. He didn't want anything to matter anymore.

He couldn't eat, anyway, not when every bite tasted like cardboard or bile and the pictures kept coming back to him.

“Why are you here?” he asked again, crossing his arms and becoming aware that he was still wearing the same shirt from yesterday – had it really only been yesterday?

Luffy sighed, evidently realizing that he couldn't fool Law. “We were worried about you.”

“Why?”

There was no need to. These people didn't know him.

“I hadn't heard from you in a few days,” Luffy said but he was chewing his lower lip and Law knew there was more. He leveled Luffy with a hard look and waited.

“Corazón called me,” Luffy said and Law's jaw dropped. “Well, he called the bar, but same thing, I guess...”

Law couldn't believe Corazón had done that.

“He… what?”

Making sure Corazón had been okay had been the one thing Law had done before he turned off his phone and attempted to hide out in his flat until his mind cleared or the entire storm blew over. Apparently neither of those options were actually realistic, as proven by the boy standing in front of him.

“He said you had had a run-in with someone who was controlled by 'Mingo and then when he woke up you had run off and later texted him that you found 'Mingo? But none of us could reach you afterwards.”

Law winced at the shortening of Doflamingo's name, almost a nickname in its own right. “Can you not call him that?” he said before he could stop himself and the smile dropped off Luffy's face.

“Oh, sorry, yeah...” He rubbed his neck. “I have a tendency to give people nicknames or shorten their names. I'm bad with faces and names and such...”

Law pressed his lips together and wanted to count to ten but he only made it to five until Luffy's eyes on him became too much.

“You can put the food on the table in the kitchen,” he said after taking in a breath.

“Sure!” Luffy said and the grin was back on his face just as fast as it had went.

He seemed to know the way to the kitchen already even though Law had only ever allowed him into his office. Law followed the younger man with heavy feet and an even heavier heart.

 

 

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Luffy asked conversationally while going through Law's cabinets for plates.

“I don't know how that's any of your business,” Law said, his exhaustion making his lack of impulse control, manners and filter even worse. He realized his mistake a second too late.

“So you didn't,” Luffy said, frowning at him from where he had stretched his arm to reach the plates on the upper shelf.

Law tried his best to look disgusted at Luffy's Devil Fruit powers before the question registered in his mind.

“I don't want to talk about it,” he said bluntly.

“Alright,” Luffy shrugged, his arm snapping back into place with two plates securely held in his hand. “But I'll make you eat something now and then you can nap.”

Law wanted to protest but instead he just huffed and pulled out a chair to sit down. Maybe Luffy would leave after they had eaten if he assured him that he would go to sleep. Which he wouldn't. Because sleep was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Right after talking to anyone, including Luffy, and eating.

But Law had no idea how to make him leave without bodily throwing him out and Luffy's ability looked like it could make some damage when used aggressively. He really didn't want to trash his own apartment, even if he was never going to get back the security deposit at this point anyway.

Luffy either didn't notice his quiet or ignored it deliberately while setting the table and then putting the food he had brought into a bread basket. Law hadn't even known he owned a bread basket, but for all he knew Corazón could have conveniently left it at his place.

 

 

There was too much food.

Law already wasn't a big eater, but what Luffy had bought seemed to be just excessive.

There was an array of donuts, at least six croissants, four plastic cups filled with what Law was pretty sure were two smoothies and two hot chocolates, respectively, and pretzels, of all things.

Law stared at it all and the first thing that left his mouth was: “I don't like bread.”

Luffy stared at him. “You're lying.”

Hilariously, for once in his life, Law wasn't. At least not in that moment. He just didn't think he could eat anything right now, and ergo didn't like _anything_.

“Are you allergic?” Luffy squinted at him.

Law sighed. “No, I'm not allergic to wheat,” he said. “I'm just not very fond of… bread.”

“You mean food,” Luffy said and he looked so disappointed.

“Not generally, no.”

The disappointment made way for another look of concern. “That can't be good.”

Law wanted to laugh. Of course it wasn't good.

“I eat mostly because I have to,” he said, eyeing the pretzels and trying to ignore the nausea welling up in him.

“Well, you have to now,” Luffy said, shrugging, and grabbed a donut and a pretzel to put them on Law's plate.

“This isn't exactly healthy,” Law protested but Luffy just rolled his eyes.

“So is not eating anything.”

They stared at each other for a few moments after that, neither of them saying anything but an unspoken challenge in their eyes.

Finally Law looked away and tore off a piece of his pretzel, just so he would feel less uncomfortable and have something to do.

Luffy whooped in triumph.

Law didn't think it was his victory though, his hand paused halfway to his mouth. He didn't think he could actually eat it. But Luffy's expectant expression and the sudden pressure that descended upon Law when he saw it somehow dislodged his frozen movement.

It tasted like nothing – and like anger.

Law had to force himself to swallow, feeling like he would choke on the small bite.

Luffy's face had morphed into concern again.

“How is it?” he asked and Law wanted to put his head down on the table and laugh – or maybe cry.

Should he be honest or should he lie? The decision was made in a split second, because he was too tired, for both a discussion and elaborate lies.

“It's okay,” he said and ripped off another piece, not bringing it to his mouth just yet, focused on the way Luffy smiled.

“Good,” he said.

Another minute passed in silence before Luffy started telling a story about his latest shift at the bar.

“And like, I don't know how some of these guys still think they just run off without paying. Is it because I look so young?” Luffy blabbered while making elaborate gestures with a donut in his hand. Law kept quiet and continued watching and listening to him, glad that apparently no comment was required from him. “He learned his lesson pretty quickly though, because I don't tolerate that shit.”

Law absent-mindedly picked at one of the scabs on his forehead instead of eating while Luffy explained how he had held the tab skipper in a choke hold for almost fifteen minute and half zoned out, flinching hard when Luffy suddenly took his hand.

“You're bleeding,” Luffy said, letting go of his wrist and Law pulled back his hand to stare at his stained-red fingertips.

“You shouldn't be here,” he said after a moment, wiping his hand on his sweatpants. “You shouldn't be involved in this.”

“That's not your decision to make.”

Law spit out a curse and got up, ignoring Luffy's alarmed expression he walked into his office only to return a few seconds later, slamming the pictures he had found the previous day down on the table next to Luffy's plate.

He was too angry to keep them a secret.

“He has eyes on every step I take,” he growled. “This is too dangerous for you to stick your nose into it. There's no pictures of you – yet! – but this… this is enough. It's too much already.”

Luffy inspected the top picture – one that was clearly taken across the street of his bar – for a moment, before looking back up at Law. “He should already know who I am,” he said, nonchalant. “You trying to get me to back off now isn't going to change that.”

“It's too late,” Law murmured, the realization hitting him hard, and he dropped back into his chair. Of course Doflamingo already knew who Luffy was. He had to.

Law had dragged Luffy into this and now it was too late.

“Exactly,” Luffy said, shoving another croissant into his mouth and Law had to look away.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Luffy chewed fast, frowning, and gulped down the bite. “Don't be,” he said.

“Why?” Law asked, desperation creeping into his voice. “This is all my fault. Rebecca wouldn't have lost her mother and her future if it hadn't been for me. You wouldn't be involved in this if it wasn't for me. A- … You could be happy if it wasn't for me.”

Luffy's frown deepened. “What are you even talking about?”

Law took a deep breath, ready to just spill everything. It was only fair now that he had put Luffy in Doflamingo's cross-hairs.

But he couldn't say a word.

He just stared at Luffy and he couldn't get himself to say it.

“You can't absolve me of my guilt,” he managed, finally; said it more to himself than to Luffy. Because he had to say something, at least.

Luffy just raised and eyebrow, before he pushed the pictures aside.

“Maybe not for whatever you did that you won't tell me about,” he said and Law bit his lip. “But I can tell you that I want to be involved in this and that whatever happens to me is not your fault. Believe me, I've had enough guilt of my own to deal with to know that.”

These words weren't helping. Because he was the reason Luffy had been feeling – was undoubtedly still feeling – guilty and he would never be the same.

“Stop worrying about me and worry about yourself instead. Or about Rebecca. But you need to find whoever took these pictures,” Luffy said insistently.

Law wanted to tell him that he wanted to avoid worrying about himself at any cost. That was why he had this job. Because he could only do that if he worried about other people more than about himself.

But he didn't. Instead he picked up the topic. Because it was easier. Safer. More productive, even.

“It could be anyone. Someone he controlled. Some tourist. The city is crawling with them and their cameras and we don't even spare them a second glance,” he mused and pulled the photos closer to him. Pictures of him in front of his flat, in front of the bar, others while working on cases. Some were of him talking to Corazón, there was even one with Sengoku. None with Luffy, but that was probably pure luck.

He looked up to see Luffy frowning at the pictures, chewing on his lower lip.

“I think they might have been taken by the same person,” he said, “because otherwise that would mean much more effort for M… him, right?”

Law shrugged. “His powers have a time and space limit, though. So it's effort and risk either way.”

“Okay,” Luffy made, pushing his hair out of his face and pressing his hands to his forehead. He looked like he was determined to solve a riddle that was much too high a level for him.

“Why do you want to help me with this? It doesn't help Rebecca. This has nothing to do with her and everything to do with me,” Law asked, looking at him in astonishment.

“I like you,” Luffy said, matter of factly. He didn't even look up from the picture he was studying now.

For a moment, Law's entire world stopped. This was what he had been afraid of.

“You barely know me,” he sad and his voice cracked on the last word.

Now Luffy did look up. “I know you well enough to know that I want to help you,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

Law sighed, but didn't say anything back. They just looked at each other for a minute, silently conversing in a way that made it clear that Law would have to give up eventually.

“Go take a nap,” Luffy said. “Sleep for a few hours, I'll text Corazón that you're alright and then we'll find whoever took these pictures.”

Law wanted to say that it wasn't this easy, but he was too tired, he realized as he got up. All the nights filled with no sleep or nightmares were catching up to him.

“Only if you buy me alcohol, too,” he said instead.

“No way in hell,” Luffy said and he was out of his chair, too, already pushing him towards his bedroom. “You can buy it yourself later, when you wake up.”

“What, you get me breakfast but no drinks later? What kind of cheap date are you?”

He could blame it on his sleep-deprived mind running berserk later, on his lack of impulse control, he didn't care.

What he did care about was the way Luffy's eyes crinkled when he laughed.

It didn't even sound nice. It was one of those bleating but infectious laughs and the corners of Law's mouth almost quirked up in response, too. He just sounded so happy.

“Go to sleep,” Luffy urged, still giggling. “Drinks later.”

“Alright, alright,” Law said, stifling a yawn and rounding the corner into his bedroom. He let himself fall onto his bed and for once in his life it didn't feel like he was shutting himself into a prison cell.

“Take off your pants,” Luffy said as he was already exiting the room again, “don't be an animal.”

“You eat like an animal,” Law said, pretty sure that Luffy couldn't hear his muffled voice from where his face was buried in his pillow.

He fell asleep with his sweatpants on, of course, over the covers.

Because he was that tired.

 

 

He had nightmares. Of course he did.

The printer in the room full of pictures kept spitting out page after page and they rose up to crate an image of first Law, then Doflamingo.

“ _ **Take care of him”**_

It echoed in his head over and over again, no matter how hard his dream-self pressed his hands over his ears.

And then his hands weren't pressed over his ears anymore but clutching hard around a human heart.

 

 

It wasn't his own screaming that woke him up but Luffy's hand shaking his shoulder.

Law sat upright immediately, pressing one hand over his mouth and slapping Luffy's hand away with the other, scooting over to the other side of the bed.

“Hey,” Luffy made, soothingly, and held up his hands in what was probably supposed to show that he would back off and not hurt him.

Law wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't. He felt like he was choking, again.

“You were dreaming,” Luffy said.

Law nodded.

“I'm going to get you something to drink,” Luffy said after looking at him for another few moments and moved towards the door.

Law wished that he meant getting him something actual to drink, but he knew it was only gong to be water. But maybe that would at least dislodge the tightness in his throat and let him breathe. Maybe even talk.

Waiting for Luffy to come back gave Law the chance to try and calm down.

Having Luffy talk to him had already grounded him enough again to know what was real and what wasn't, what was memory and what was present, but he couldn't stop the shaking of his hands, no matter what he did.

By the time Luffy came back with a glass of water he could at least breathe again, even if it wasn't entirely even.

“How long was I asleep?” he croaked when he accepted the cool glass.

Luffy shrugged. “Maybe an hour.”

Law groaned and downed the water in one go. There had been a time when he had slept eight hours a night without disturbance. By now that might as well be a fairy tale.

“That'll have to be enough then,” he said and handed back the glass.

Luffy eyed him with concern in his gaze and Law stared back. It bothered him even more now than it had earlier. He didn't need Luffy's pity – and even more so, he didn't deserve it.

Even so he decided against saying something and swung his legs over the side of the bed instead, finally looking away from Luffy. Getting up felt like the hardest thing he'd ever done. It always did.

“You should sleep more,” Luffy said.

Law snorted. “I can't,” he sad. “So I might as well go out and do something. I have no other choice.”

Luffy sighed but thankfully backed off, leaving the bedroom before Law, presumably to bring the glass back into the kitchen.

Law took the opportunity to change from his sweats into a pair of ripped jeans. He had just pulled off his shirt and was rifling through his drawers for a clean one that didn't have the logo of his former university emblazoned on the front when he heard Luffy's voice from the door again.

“I'd ask you what you were dreaming about but you probably wouldn't tell me anyway.”

Law flinched and instinctively tensed up.

“Jesus,” he said. “Don't sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry. I thought you'd heard me. Your floorboards creak,” Luffy said.

“Well, I had not,” Law snapped, pulling a dark red tank top from the depths of his chest of drawers, and yanked it over his head. “And you're right. I wouldn't tell you.”

He snatched his black hoodie from the technically untouched side of the bed and pulled it on, too, but didn't zip it up.

Luffy was still watching him uneasily, seeming off-kilter but Law couldn't bring himself to care.

“It probably won't do any good but I guess we could look at some of the places where the pictures were taken. Since I have no other ideas,” Law said and lead the way towards the front door.

“Sure,” Luffy said. “That sounds like a good start.”

“And then when we find nothing I can buy booze.”

Luffy pursed his lips but didn't say anything. He probably couldn't, given that he worked in and owned a bar. Either he had seen worse than Law or he kept quiet knowing Law would just use his status as a barkeeper against him.

He put on his boots and had put his left arm into his coat when Luffy interrupted him, looking straight at him.

“That color suits you,” Luffy said and Law looked down at himself.

“You mean the red? I look better in yellow,” he said easily but zipped up the hoodie after pulling on his coat completely. It was cold outside, after all.

He felt in his pocket for the syringe with Sufentanil, now a constant reassuring weight in the fabric that he couldn't leave the house without.

Luffy took his jacket from where he had hung it next to Law's coat and shrugged it on.

“I don't think I've seen you in yellow yet,” he said and Law wanted to bang his head against the wall.

“I usually wear black,” he said, opening the door and stepping outside.

Luffy snorted. “Yeah, I've seen _that_ ,” he said. He waited a few steps further down the hall while Law locked his door.

When they started for the elevator it dinged and the doors opened, revealing Bepo, leaning heavily on Monet and one of the other students from the upper floor whose name Law didn't know.

Still, he was next to them faster than he had moved all day.

“What happened?”

“I fell,” Bepo wheezed when Law took over for Monet.

“From _where_?”

“Just the stairs at the subway station,” Monet cut in, pushing her dyed green hair out of her face. “But I think he landed weirdly.”

“Should I call a doctor?” Luffy asked.

“No!” they all made at the same time and Luffy looked at little taken aback.

“What?” he asked, looking straight at Law. “I could just call Chopper, they wouldn't charge anything or whatever.”

“Chopper has a _job_ ,” Law said decisively to distract from the fact that Bepo looked like he was going to cry. “I can handle this, it's most likely just a sprain.”

He let Bepo dig in his pockets for his key and handed it to Monet, who opened the door quickly.

“Do you have any ice packs?” Law asked Bepo preemptively while they were hobbling inside.

Bepo shook his head.

“Frozen peas? Any kind of frozen vegetables? Leftover popsicles you could sacrifice?”

“I don't want to refreeze my veggies,” Bepo said and Law sighed.

He and the unnamed neighbor maneuvered Bepo onto his couch and Law took his own key out of his pocket, throwing it to Luffy who was hovering in the door. “Would you go get some of the cool packs I have in my fridge?”

“Sure.”

Law didn't have to watch him go to know that he was basically running back into Law's flat.

“Which foot is it?” he asked Bepo instead.

“The right,” Bepo and Monet said at the same time.

“Okay,” Law nodded. He carefully opened Bepo's shoe and slid it off before peeling off his sock, too.

“This looks nasty,” he said, inspecting the already purpling bruise on Bepo's ankle. “But it probably looks worse than it is. Can you move it?”

Bepo carefully moved his foot to the left, then to the right.

“That's good,” Law said. “How about up and down?”

That seemed to be alright, too, albeit causing a lot of pain.

“Okay,” Law repeated, carefully running his hands over Bepo's ankle. “You could have injured your ligament, but I'm pretty sure it's just a sprain. I want you to stay off your feet as much as you can in the next few days, alright?”

“I can get you groceries,” Monet offered immediately.

Bepo made an unhappy face but nodded.

“Alright, good. Do you have a first aid kit?” Law asked.

“I have aspirin and band-aids?” Bepo offered and Law rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, no.” He got up from his crouch, dusting off his knees automatically even though Bepo's floor was clean. “I'll go get mine.”

He almost bumped into Luffy as he turned into the corridor. Law's ice packs were cradled in his arms.

“Do you have my keys?” Law asked. “We need my first aid kit.”

Luffy shifted the weight of the ice packs and dangled Law's ring of keys off one of his fingers. “There.”

“Thanks.”

He was already past Luffy after having accepted the keys in passing but Luffy was still stopped in the doorway to Bepo's flat.

“Should he put the ice packs on now already?”

Law hesitated for a moment, then turned around again to answer. “Sure, I guess. Make sure to wrap them in towels or something first though.”

Luffy grinned and nodded. “Understood!”

Law just turned around and continued on his way.

 

When he returned to Bepo's flat with his first aid kit in hand, Luffy was pressing not one but two ice packs to Bepo's ankle.

“That's really not necessary,” Law said, eyeing the scene with exasperation.

Luffy blinked up at him. “I thought cooling it was important?”

Law sighed. “Yes, but not that much.” He crouched down next to Luffy and Bepo. “Alright, move.”

Luffy removed the ice packs from Bepo's ankle and got up to make space for Law, who put the first aid kit down on the floor next to him and opened it.

“I'm gonna put on a bandage to stabilize it,” he explained, grabbing the right package without even looking. His first aid kit was probably the most organized thing he owned.

Bepo didn't protest so Law set to work.

It didn't take him very long, despite not having administered first aid in any way in too long. His hands were steady and he was totally focused on the task at hand.

He felt morbidly at home.

 

He only became aware of Luffy watching him after he was finished and straightened up. Everyone was watching him, really, but Law found it easier to ignore Monet and her silent neighbor.

“Thanks for bringing him home,” he told them after a moment.

“It was no trouble, really,” neighbor girl said, flashing white teeth in a smile, “we live in the same house after all.”

“And yet I don't know your name,” Law said, snapping his first aid kit closed and rising to his feet again.

“Ah, of course,” she made, stretching out her hand to introduce herself. “I'm Baby, I'm kind of elusive.”

Law took it, albeit with a raised eyebrow. “Nice to meet you.”

“Baby? Like in Dirty Dancing?” Luffy piped up, voicing exactly what Law had been thinking.

She laughed and shook her head. “A lot of people think that, but no, it's actually from this obscure comic. My friends thought I looked like the main character – Baby 5 – so they started calling me that and it stuck.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Law said. He didn't really understand why someone would introduce themselves with a nickname this weird that used to be exclusive to other people but then again he also hadn't batted an eye at Chopper being introduced to him.

He refrained from shaking his head and instead looked back at Bepo who was looking like a very small, very sad child right now and he almost didn't want to leave. But he had nothing more to do here. “Ice it, but not constantly,” he said. “And stay off your feet as much as you can, okay? If it gets worse or doesn't get better by tomorrow night call me.”

There would be not much more he could do here at home but he could try. He could always try.

 

 

“This house has nothing but drama,” he sighed after he had put the first aid kit back into his flat and locked the door behind him again. They were walking towards the stairs now, Law still a little wary of the elevator.

“Apart from the murder?” Luffy asked.

Law's face twisted in disgust and sharp memories. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“Sorry,” Luffy said.

They fell into silence and were halfway down the stairs before Luffy talked again.

“You're really good at this, though.”

“Good at what?” Law didn't see the connection.

“Like, the whole doctor thing. Were you a nurse before you became a PI?” Luffy asked and Law almost missed a step.

“No,” he said, a little too sharply. They had reached the foot of the stairs and Law had the urge to just stop but kept walking anyway. “I used to go to med school.” He didn't look at Luffy.

It wasn't his most guarded secret, but he didn't like revealing it any more than talking about Doflamingo.

“Oh,” Luffy made and Law talked over him before he could say anything else.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

“There's a lot of things you don't want to talk about,” Luffy said, putting his hands in his pockets as Law caught up with him again.

He mimicked the gesture. “I know.”

 

 

Only when they were out on the street did it occur to him that he felt a little better. Luffy had somehow managed to coax him out of his self-induced isolation, out of his bedroom and his flat, back into the world and the too harsh reality. He needed to be doing something and Luffy was making sure he did it.

 

 

 

Of course there was nothing to be found at the locations where the pictures had been taken. They scoured subway entrances and the spot across from Sengoku and Tsuru's offices, walked past the radio station where Coazón worked – the reminder gave Law a guilty twinge – and the park a few blocks from Law's flat where he sat and watched people go on awkward dates or break up when he hadn't slept in a few days. Nothing. No clues.

But Law felt vulnerable. Not only because he had been already spotted and photographed at all these places once but also because he was allowing Luffy into his life like this.

Luffy seemed insistent, though, and it wasn't like Law hadn't tried to get him to back off – or to back off himself. Distance apparently wouldn't help with Luffy, he would just come back, barging in with too much food and too many words.

 

So they went back to Law's flat without any results and without alcohol. Law wasn't sure why Luffy was still following him, but he found that he didn't mind. But that realization in itself was unsettling.

They passed Monet in the hall, who had just left Bepo's apartment, and exchanged greetings.

Law stopped in front of his door for a moment to look for his keys.

“Don't you have like… university. Or work?” he asked Luffy, finally having located the key to his front door.

Luffy grinned. “Not today.”

“You're skipping, aren't you?” Law sighed and turned the key in the lock.

“You can't prove a thing,” Luffy said happily. And well, Law couldn't. Not without revealing that he had extensive knowledge of Luffy's schedule and habits. And even then he would only have angered him and made himself vulnerable, without actually proving anything. So he would lose either way.

They were in Law's flat before he realized, the door falling shut behind them.

This was definitely too close.

Thankfully the silence didn't last long or otherwise Law would have started to panic.

“So,” Luffy made, walking past Law into his office like he owned the place, “what's our next step?”

Law blinked, slow on the uptake, and turned in what felt like slow-motion to follow Luffy. He stopped a few steps away from the desk which Luffy had hopped up on, perching on the edge with his feet dangling a bit over the floor, a slight grin still plastered on his face.

“I don't know,” he admitted and watched Luffy's face fall for a minute.

He caught himself fast though. “Well, we'll find something!”

Law couldn't stand his endless optimism. He couldn't tell if it was fake or genuine and it was unnerving, if not obnoxious.

“Look,” he said and stepped a little closer, “you don't have to stay. Maybe we'll have to let this go for a while until I get an idea how to get more leads.”

“But I don't want to leave you alone with this,” Luffy said, frowning again.

Now his childish stubbornness was definitely annoying. “You wouldn't be,” Law said. “I'd be working on other things for a while. I have a job, you know? Same as you.”

Almost as if to prove his point it knocked on his door, for the second time this day. This time it was firm but not as loud as Luffy's previous assault.

Law didn't bother saying anything more or waiting for a reply from Luffy but turned to look who wanted something from him this late in the afternoon.

He wasn't exactly surprised to find a woman waiting in front of his door but if he was honest he hadn't expected it to be a stranger but rather Monet or Baby.

He hadn't had a new client in a while.

“Hello,” he said, too tired to plaster a pleasant smile to his face.

She looked him up and down in obvious confusion, meeting his eyes with veiled disgust. “Are you Trafalgar Law?”

“The very same,” he said, suppressing a smile.

“The private investigator?” she added.

Law wanted to scream in her face. He was pretty sure that his face had been in the paper at least once, connected to Rebecca's case. There were pictures of him right there online if you googled him. Granted, most of them were outdated by at least two years and he knew he had lost weight, but he wasn't wearing make-up in some of them, so his face shouldn't come as quite as big a shock as we was making it out to be. He didn't advertise himself to be much less of a mess than he was.

“Yes,” he said. “It says so on the door, doesn't it?”

He motioned at the sign on his door that clearly stated his name and occupation. She looked at it with pursed lips. “It does, yes.”

“Are you here to hire me?”

She had the audacity to sigh very deeply. “Yes.”

“Then I guess you should come in.”

Why was he doomed to work with stuck-up, white people who could barely mask their contempt at having to walk into his apartment building and talk to him? He knew he should have gotten a job that paid better, but that ship had sailed a long time ago.

He led her into his office and hoped that he would be able to get rid of her fast without losing the potential contract.

“Who's this?” she asked.

Law looked at Luffy who was still sitting on the desk. “My intern,” he deadpanned. He was already sick of her, so he might as well have some fun. To hell with professionalism.

Luffy grinned, obviously more than ready to play along. “Hi, I'm Luffy and I'm new. Nice to meet you.”

She seemed so perplexed that she took his outstretched hand on instinct and Law had to stifle a laugh behind her back.

“Get off the table or I'm firing you,” Law told him while he pulled out the chair for his client and then rounded the desk to sit down himself. Luffy pouted but slid off the desk to go and stand over by the bookshelf.

“So,” Law made, looking at the woman expectantly. “Would you care to introduce yourself? What can I do for you?”

She didn't bother to smile. “I'm sorry for being so rude. My name is Shalulia and I want you to catch my soon-to-be ex-husband Yama and his mistress in the act,” she said bluntly. Law didn't even blink.

He had seen enough in this job.

“Sure. But these pictures aren't easy to look at. Are you sure that's what you want? Pictures of them together otherwise should suffice in court.”

She smiled, but it seemed furious. “Yes,” she said. “I want to destroy him.”

Humanity was so petty and so angry. And Law was no exception. He figured that was only fair.

“Okay,” he said, studying his client for a moment longer, the memory of Scarlett still too fresh, even though the two women couldn't have been more different. “Can I ask how you found me?” There had to have been some kind of referral, people like her didn't just google and pick the next best PI.

“My divorce lawyer referred me,” she said briskly and crossed her arms in front of her body.

“And who's that?” Law asked. He was acutely aware of Luffy watching them.

“Borsalino from the Sengoku and Tsuru offices,” she said, frowning at him. “He said he knew first hand that you do excellent work but I'm beginning to doubt that. Can you do it or not?”

He frowned back, still not entirely convinced, even though Sengoku's office had given him a lot of clients over time. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Not some extremely tall blond man with horrible taste in fashion?”

“What are you talking about?” she snapped. “I'm pretty sure I know what my lawyer looks like. If you don't want to do the work I'll take my business to someone who hasn't recently had a murder happen in his office.”

“Alright, I'm sorry,” Law said. He didn't bother to correct her on the murder not technically having happened in his flat. It had happened to him and Rebecca, and that was bad enough. “I just have to be wary about referrals right now.” He reached into one of his drawers and pulled out a printed sheet of paper. “A standard contract should suffice but I require fifty percent of the payment upfront.”

He had barely slid the contract across the table towards her when his phone began to ring, dancing across the table with every vibration. Corazón's name was flashing across the screen and Law had his hand on his phone before he could even think.

“Excuse me,” he told Shalulia and got up to move into the kitchen and close the door behind him.

“Cora?” he asked, his voice and hands shaking.

“He's back, Law,” Corazón's voice hissed. “The police officer.” Law could hear dull thuds across the phone. “He's trying to break down the door and I don't know what to do.”

Law wanted to snap at him to get it together, that he was trained in combat and his door was steel-enforced. But he also knew that, much like himself, Corazón had felt safe nowhere but his own flat before he had been attacked right there. Before his space had been violated.

“Grab a weapon,” Law told him, his whole body on fire and ready to run, “and go wait in your bedroom. He physically can't get through that door without you letting him in, you hear me? You'll be okay and I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Corazón said and then echoed it again, as if he was talking to himself. “Okay.”

Law ended the call and shoved his phone into his pocket, throwing the door back open.

He returned to the office to find Luffy going over the contract with Shalulia.

“I need to go,” he said, feeling breathless and faint and urgent. “Luffy will show you out once you're done.” He hoped years of working in the service industry had given Luffy enough experience to deal with this for five more minutes.

He ignored the woman's angry look and Luffy's concerned question that followed his statement and hurried off.

He barely remembered to grab his coat and keys before he was out the door. This couldn't be happening again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry - again, haha - for the delay, 10 days of lawlu was very time consuming :P
> 
> there's some casual/joking discussion of dismemberment and arson in this chapter and some victim... dismissal, i'd say. rape culture, kind of, i guess.

  


Law didn't think. He just ran.

He caught a taxi two streets over and somehow made it to Corazón's place in half an hour, chewing on his nails and compulsively checking his phone the entire way.

  


He hated that Corazón's apartment didn't have a second entrance – but really what fucking place that wasn't a townhouse had two in this city? – because that meant that he either had to go the long way around or confront the police kid – Coby – immediately. He decided for the fire escape in the end.

Climbing several stories and then somehow making it to Corazón's balcony had not been on the agenda for today. He slid over the railing and then texted Corazón that he was here, the glass door obviously securely locked.

A minute later he saw his brother emerge from his bedroom and dash across the living room to open the door for him.

“He's still here,” he hissed the moment that there was crack in the door.

“I know,” Law said. The sound of the pounding at the door was too audible to ignore.

“They've been trying to get in with a battering ram for like twenty minutes,” Corazón said, picking at a scab on his forearm. Law slapped his hand to make him stop.

Then he set off towards the steel-enforced front door of Corazón's apartment. “Stay here,” he told his brother but of course Corazón didn't listen to him and followed closely on his heels. The monitor that Corazón had instead of a peephole showed Coby and another police officer and Law sighed deeply as he watched them.

“We have to get in there,” Coby begged and Law pulled a face. He sounded desperate in a way that was very different than he had been just a day before.

He looked on for another few seconds before he turned to Corazón who flinched every time the ram hit the door. “He's not here to kill you,” he said.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I know that look. It's guilt.” Law motioned at the screen. Coby's eyes were blown wide open and he looked terrified. He expected to find a body, a body that he had put here. Law knew that expression and that look all too well. In his case Coby was luckier than he had been.

He gently guided Corazón so he was standing behind the door and then waited for a pause in the battering of the door before he opened it.

Two startled police men blinked at him.

“Hello officers. Sorry, we had our headphones in,” Law said and faked an apologetic smile. “Funny cat videos.”

Coby didn't seem to be able to bring a word out but his colleague caught himself quickly. “Uh, is Mr. Donquixote here?”

“Yeah,” Law said. “This is his flat.”

“I'm sorry,” the police officer said, “my colleague here thought there was an emergency situation involving Mr. Donquixote. Did you have a break-in yesterday?”

Law frowned slightly. “No,” he said, “everything's fine.”

The police officer looked at Coby and pursed his lips. “' _Dead body_ ', you said...”

“Are you sure?” Coby said, sounding distressed, “I'd like to come in to make sure there's nothing out of the ordinary.”

Corazón who had been seething quietly behind the door stepped into Coby's field of view quickly. “We're fine here, thank you,” he said, but his shaking voice betrayed him. Coby stared at him and all color drained from his face.

“How much did you drink last night, man?” his colleague asked and shook his head. “Come on, let's go.”

“I… Are… I'm…,” Coby stammered, his eyes flickering from his colleague to Corazón and Law and back again. Law sighed and looked at Corazón to determine if he was up for this while Coby seemed to finally catch himself. “I… Are you sure?”

“You're repeating yourself,” Law and his colleague said at the same time.

“We should go,” the colleague said.

“Uh,” Coby made. “You go ahead. I'll be there in a minute, okay?”

His colleague groaned. “Yeah, okay, sure. Whatever.” He rolled his eyes and retreated to the still-open elevator doors. They shut a moment later.

Law gripped the edge of the door a little tighter, ready to slam it closed if Coby tried anything. He didn't think he would, but you never knew what desperate people would do.

Coby looked behind himself to make sure his colleague was really gone, then he leaned in. “I can't believe you're alright,” he whispered.

Corazón laughed; it had a hysterical edge to it. “I'm not alright,” he said, tugging down the fabric of his scarf to reveal the purpling bruises on his neck.

“Oh,” Coby made and swallowed. “… alive then.”

“You should go,” Law said. He didn't tell Coby that he should have listened to him. He wouldn't have listened either. When you thought you had killed a person that was the only thing you could think about and a stranger telling you you hadn't wouldn't help you.

Coby seemed shaky, his gaze jumping from Law and Corazón and then back again. “I… yeah… I know. I just...” He took a deep breath. “I just want you to know that I am truly sorry.”

“Do better,” Corazón said and shut the door in his face.

Law winced. “Harsh.”

Corazón turned to him. “He tried to kill me. He needs to do better.” He stalked past Law into his kitchen and proceeded to pour himself a glass of wine.

Law followed him with a deep sigh. “I'm not saying you're wrong because you're not but… I'm just telling you the kid is trying.”

“Since when are you the advocate for human decency?” Corazón scoffed.

“Since never,” Law said. He didn't want to argue about him. “He'll probably leave you alone now that he knows that you're alive.”

“I sure hope so.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Corazón emptied his wine glass and then nodded at it while he refilled it. “Want some?”

Law pulled a face. “No thanks. Not my choice of poison.”

“You're an uncultured millennial,” Corazón smirked.

“Lots of people don't like wine and lots of millennials like wine,” Law said, rolling his eyes. “But I'm glad you can pick on me again, that means you're okay.”

“I will be,” Corazón said. “At some point. You can go back to your cases and your creepy pictures.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go,” Corazón urged. “I know what I'll have to do to get Doflamingo off my back. It won't be nice or honest but it will be better than being scared all the time.”

Law groaned. “Cora, no...”

“This is my decision,” Corazón insisted.

Law sighed and reached for the wine glass after all. “Alright, but call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Well, that's a first,” Corazón said and followed it up with a small chuckle. “Never thought I'd see the day where you told _me_ to call you.”

“Oh shut up,” Law said. He downed the wine and turned to leave.

“Hey, little brother,” Corazón called after him and Law stopped and turned for a moment. “Thank you.”

  


  


He found Coby loitering outside on the sidewalk when he stepped out, and for a moment his heart jumped into his throat until he really looked at him. And he remembered.

He remembered how hard it was to go back to the scene of the crime and then to leave again.

He remembered how hard it was to let it go and still to remember.

“You shouldn't keep standing around here,” he said, coming to a stop next to the young police man. “He'll call security on your ass.”

Coby flinched. “I just don't… understand,” he mumbled.

Law sighed and grabbed his elbow. “Alright. Let's go for a walk.”

They walked down the relatively empty, dark street side by side.

“How much do you remember?” Law asked.

Coby shrugged, sinking into himself a little. “Not much… I remember talking to the man… Doflamingo. I remember attacking you guys. I remember the stuff on the roof. But it doesn't make sense!”

So Law explained. He was sick of it, but he did, because it wasn't Coby's fault and there was no way to resist Doflamingo once he gave you a command. Just because Law had had to explain it one time too many in his life and still felt the heavy guilt in his limbs every day didn't mean he could deny Coby the explanation he needed.

Coby listened intently but his mouth was set in a tight line and he looked more at the ground than at Law.

“He knows it wasn't you, okay? But the best thing you can do now is to leave him alone, so he can feel safe again,” Law closed with.

“I'm supposed to protect people,” Coby said, “not hurt them.”

“I know.”

“I just want him to know I'm sorry,” Coby said and Law could clearly see how young he was. How for all the things he had signed up for when he became a cop, he didn't deserve this.

“I'll tell him,” he promised. “And he can protect himself, don't worry. He'll be fine. And you will be too. It'll be okay.”

It felt like a lie.

  


  


  


Law got back to his flat to a nicely crafted – but written in a terrible scrawl – note from Luffy. Apparently the client hadn't run screaming and the contract was filled out to Law's satisfaction. There was also instructions as to where and when she thought her husband would meet his affair next.

Law felt like breaking out the alcohol again.

Instead he filed away the contract neatly and went to see if he had any more food – which he didn't, so he decided to order takeout and switched on his Laptop.

Seeing some of the pictures on his desktop reminded him of the pictures Doflamingo had had someone take of him. And they reminded him of his own guilt.

For all the things he had told Coby he had done the exact same thing. He had a thousand pictures of Luffy on his hard drive because he hadn't been able to let it go. Because he had kept coming back and back and back under the ruse of wanting to make sure he was safe.

He was no better than Doflamingo.

It made him sick.

He started clicking through them. Because he had to – both out of morbid curiosity and out of obligation. He had personal ties to Luffy now, and seeing these photos in which they had been strangers, in which Luffy was with his friends – people Law knew too now – in which he was working, laughing about a joke, looking pensive as he unlocked the door to his apartment building, was _supposed_ to make him feel bad.

It was creepy. It was a massive invasion of privacy and Law knew it. There was no need to keep these pictures, evidence of his despicable actions, around any longer.

He needed to be better than Doflamingo. He needed to get better.

One by one he started deleting them, only pausing to get up to answer the door for his food and to get some water to drink from his kitchen. He ate while he worked.

The next time he looked up it was well past two in the morning and he had gotten rid of all the pictures.

Maybe eventually he would get rid of his guilt, too.

  


  


  


Later as he lay in bed, Law couldn't stop thinking about how Luffy had said that he liked him, and what that meant.

Even if it was superficial, and only the hint – maybe the _idea_ – of a friendship, Law hated the thought that Luffy could be getting too close to him on top of everything else.

And worst of all he didn't know where he stood with his own feelings towards Luffy. He had been keeping tabs on him for months, practically stalking him out of his own guilt and trauma. But there was also attraction that had nothing to do with that.

Law wished he didn't have to feel any of this.

But maybe he had also wanted this.

  


He slept, that night, at least. Not very well, but he slept.

  


  


  


  


Two days later Corazón apologized publicly on his show for insulting Doflamingo.

“I'm sorry for making these remarks, which had no solid base, and were no doubt quite hurtful. I was out of line. I know and acknowledge that the person I talked about is a very powerful man. I apologize,” he said as Law watched.

It would have to be enough, just short of admitting Corazón's relation to Doflamingo. Law couldn't imagine Doflamingo would want that, but then again he couldn't figure out why Doflamingo did half the things he did.

Of course Corazón was still angry, of course he was not sorry at all – despite the state of his skin and the way he kept touching it. Of course he would have rather accused Doflamingo of the half dozen more crimes he had committed in the days between his shows.

But he kept quiet instead.

  


  


They went for lunch after it was done and Law watched every tourist taking pictures with suspicion. But they were just that – tourists, taking pictures of landmarks and each other, not Law.

“I want to set fire to him,” Corazón said as they walked into the restaurant, shuddering a little. 

“Believe me, I know the feeling,” Law said. He had woken up so many times from violent dreams in which he took Doflamingo apart limb by limb – feeling guilty but gleeful.

“I want to molotov him so badly,” Corazón continued, earning him a concerned look from the host who was seating them. “Video games.” Corazón smiled.

Law waited until they were alone at their table.

“We can't,” he said for what felt like the millionth time. “At least not yet. I would have tried attacking him from a distance already if I could, but Rebecca needs to be declared innocent before we do that. But at least this way we hopefully got him off your back while we figure out how to do that.”

“I really hope that worked,” Corazón sighed. “Otherwise I _will_ get a flamethrower.”

“Just call me and I'll take him apart,” Law joked.

Corazón pursed his lips. “Are you sure you want the guilt of killing him, though,” he said, suddenly even more serious. “The legal kind of guilt, I mean.”

“They would have to prove it first,” Law said and showed his teeth. “Anyway, we don't need to revisit your arsonist times...”

“ _Controlled_ arson,” Corazón corrected. “And you're one to talk!”

Law smirked and hid behind his menu.

  


  


  


When he came home later, he still had not been able to shake the feeling that something was off with his newest client. Of course it was probably only leftover paranoia from Rebecca, but he needed to be sure.

He tried to call Tsuru but Mocha had to inform him that she was out of the office and when she tried to put him through to her cellphone she wouldn't answer that either.

“Just... connect me to Sengoku then,” Law said with a deep sigh.

There was no way this conversation would go well.

“I thought you had forgotten about me,” Sengoku said instead of greeting him.

Law scoffed. “I wish I could. Look, you only call me when you want something and I do the same. So let's cut straight to the chase.”

“I'm fine, thank you, how are you?” Sengoku asked.

“You don't care.”

“I _raised_ you,” Sengoku said, now obviously upset, “of course I care!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Law said. He didn't have the time or nerves for this. “You really don't want to know, though. Please, can you just give me the info I need?”

Sengoku sighed and seemed to hesitate for a moment. “Sure, what can I help you with?”

Law rolled his eyes. “I just need to know if Borsalino has a client called Shalulia.”

“You know I'm not supposed to tell you anything that falls under client confidentiality,” Sengoku said.

“Oh my god,” Law groaned. “She told me herself, okay? I just want to verify that she wasn't lying!”

“Why would she lie?”

“I don't know if you somehow missed that but I recently had a murder happen at my damn office because-” Oh, fuck.

“Because what?” Sengoku asked. “Because Doflamingo is back and you didn't think to tell me? Because I had to hear it from Corazón when I called him because I was concerned because you didn't answer your phone? You know I can help you, Trafalgar.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” Law said through his gritted teeth. He didn't have time for this. “Just tell me if she's a client!”

“I can _help-,_ ” Sengoku started again.

“No, you can't!” Law cut him off. “You don't even have devil fruit abilities! Neither does Corazón and he's already in danger. Just let me handle this and tell me if Shalulia is a goddamn client.”

“She is,” Sengoku said and inhaled to say something else.

“Thanks,” Law said and hung up.

Fuck him. Law didn't owe him an explanation. And he didn't need or want his help, either.

At least Shalulia wasn't another trap set by Doflamingo.

  


  


Law went to check out her movements and habits anyway.

He wasn't usually one to focus on the person who had given him the contract rather than who they wanted him to keep tabs on but after what had happened last time he wasn't going to take any chances.

He pushed any thoughts about invading another person's privacy out of his mind. This was his job and it was essential to his safety.

If she was mind-controlled she would have to check in with Doflamingo eventually, since his powers had limits after all. But Law wasn't sure anymore how long it would take.

Luffy called to check in with him while he was watching her manage one of her several jewelry stores. Since he had also helped Law secure the case he was curious to know how it was proceeding.

“She's a little uptight,” he said, his voice muffled by food in his mouth, “and kind of weird but I think she's legit.”

“Well, she's certainly not doing anything interesting,” Law mumbled and Luffy laughed.

“Do you want me to come with you to the husband thing?” he asked.

Law pulled a face. “No, you're not a licensed PI.” A white lie. That wasn't the real issue, mostly he was just afraid of being alone with Luffy but he obviously couldn't tell him that.

“Aw,” Luffy made, “but I'm your intern!”

“You still can't come on the case with me,” Law said and rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. Damn this boy for being so ridiculously easy to like.

  


  


Later Law followed Shalulia to an empty warehouse at the docks, which was a little more interesting and concerning than what she had been doing all day. Was she meeting Doflamingo here to get the strings controlling her fixed up?

When Law crept in through a side-entrance, the syringe of sufentanil clutched in his hand as a weapon, he found her shooting at old mannequins.

“What the fuck lady,” he mumbled, hidden behind a corner.

He wasn't too surprised by her owning a gun, but the obvious secrecy in practicing her skills was definitely concerning. Why couldn't she just go to a shooting range?

Why did every person in this city have so many fucked up issues?

Who was she so angry at that she was letting it out violently on lifeless mannequins? Who was she practicing for? Her husband?

  


He had been following her long enough to know that she wasn't controlled by Doflamingo but he still felt uneasy.

Then again he felt uneasy around every human being these days.

  


  


He really needed a drink.

  


Which was how he wound up at Luffy's bar again – after he had remembered that his apartment was still a barren wasteland without even a drop of alcohol. Luffy took one look at him and put down a glass of whiskey on the counter.

“Did the tailing not go well?”

Law shrugged, downing the whiskey quickly. “She's not being controlled as far as I can tell,” he said, “but there's definitely something up with her.”

“When is there ever not something up with rich people?” Luffy sighed and Law had to laugh a little.

“I'm going to do this but god, I hate my job.” Law pushed the glass over to Luffy to get it refilled.

Luffy frowned at him. “No, you don't.”

“I kind of do,” Law said.

“Change it then,” Luffy said and poured new whiskey into the glass.

Law laughed joylessly. “Are you serious? And do what?”

“Something that you like,” Luffy shrugged. A if it was just that fucking easy.

Law wanted to throw the whiskey in his face. He wanted to say “ _I don't like doing anything_ ” but the truth was that he _had_ liked studying medicine. Before everything. Before Doflamingo. But he couldn't tell Luffy that.

“Do _you_ like your job all the time?” he asked instead and drank more whiskey.

Luffy cocked his head to the side and hesitated for a moment. “Huh, no I guess not always.”

Law slightly tilted his glass towards him. “See? I don't think anyone does. Sometimes you have to consciously love your job. But that doesn't always work. And humans are terrible.”

“There's a reason you're in this job though, right? Like, you're independent. So what you did before must have been worse.”

“I guess,” Law sighed. “It was all terrible office jobs and there was a rule against day drinking.”

In fact he had had one office job for about a week that he had been fired from; because while medicine hadn't worked anymore, he had been anxious to do _something_ – before the extensive therapy had started. Having a rich foster faster and rich brother had helped.

“Maybe it's just the situation right now,” Luffy offered. “With M- Doflamingo out there you can't trust anyone.”

“People are vile anyway. Luckily I don't care about people.”

Luffy looked at him sadly. “I know that's a lie.”

Law didn't correct him.

  


  


  


The next morning he woke up to a text from Sengoku.

“ _Tsuru and I want to see you in the office. It's urgent._ ”

Law toyed with the idea of just ignoring it, of just staying in bed and staring at the ceiling instead of dealing with anyone, but then he got up anyway. Maybe, just maybe, they had found something, some bit of valuable information that would help him on his suicide mission.

So he went to the office.

  


He spotted the long line of people in front of Mocha's desk before he even came in through the doors.

She looked away from the person she was having sign in for a moment when he entered and he lifted his eyebrows in a silent question. Mocha lifted her hand in greeting and nodded into the direction of Tsuru and Sengoku, who were watching from a few meters away.

“They'll explain,” she mouthed.

Law found the entire thing ominous and annoying and could feel himself getting pissed off already but he walked over to the two lawyers anyway.

“Who are all these people?”

Sengoku sighed. “You tell me,” he said. “They've been walking in here ever since the radio interview Rocinante did with Rebecca, claiming they too have been controlled by Doflamingo...”

Law turned to look back at the line of people. “Holy shit.”

“We don't really know what to do with them,” Tsuru confessed. “We don't have the resources to verify their claims.”

“Yes,” Law said, suddenly and forcefully. “Yes, you do. You've got me.”

He didn't want to do this. But he knew he had to if he wanted to change anything.

Tsuru clapped her hands together in relief while Sengoku eyed Law with concern.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I am,” Law said but it came out snappier than he wanted. Of course he was on edge, but he knew this was a choice he had to make. Nothing ever came easy, no matter how much he hated that.

“We're going to set you up in one of the conference rooms then,” Tsuru said, already on the move to tell Mocha.

Law could still feel Sengoku's eyes on him but pretended not to notice. He didn't need his pity or concern now, when Sengoku had been trying to abuse Law's powers for his own benefit forever.

  


  


After three people whose stories had been absolute bogus, Sengoku leaned back, clicking his tongue impatiently.

“This is a waste of time,” he said, “these people are clearly just looking for money and fame.”

“No one is forcing you to be here,” Law snapped. “I can do this alone if you don't think some of these people are legit.” Truth be told he was annoyed himself about the people who had clearly decided that this was the place to live out their delusions of grandeur, but he was all too aware that some of the people waiting in the hallway and sitting area outside had real stories to tell. That there were real victims.

“Let's give them the benefit of the doubt,” Tsuru said sweetly but Law could hear that she was doubting too, and it made him even angrier.

“I can't believe you still think this is all a hoax,” he grit out. “I can't believe you would dismiss all the people with legit stories, the victims of the same man Rebecca and I were abused by, because there is a few liars out there. You went to school for so long and you've been in this job forever but you've learned nothing.”

Sengoku looked taken aback while Tsuru at least had the decency to look guilty. She was. She should feel that.

“You're right,” she said as the same time as Sengoku said “I think you're being unreasonable.”

Law looked him straight in the eye. “I wish I could hang up on you in real life. Like I said, you don't have to be here if you don't believe these people.”

Sengoku stared at him for a moment, finally quiet.

Law smirked.

“Can we continue now?”

  


They called in the next person, a timid looking woman.

“I play the violin. He approached me after one of my concerts,” she said. “Told me he'd really like to hear me play more.” She took a shaky breath. “And I did. For hours. For _days_ , until I passed out, because I couldn't do anything else. He wanted nothing more.”

Law took a pointed look at Sengoku, had the urge to fling his pencil at him.

This, _this_ sounded like the entitled asshole Doflamingo was.

“Can you tell us what he looked like?” Tsuru asked. Law and her had decided to let her ask a lot of the questions, because Law and Sengoku were men and especially Law could look quite intimidating. He didn't deny that and thankfully Sengoku hadn't fought them on their decision either.

“Tall,” she said, shuddering a little. “Like, freakishly tall, definitely over two meters. Blonde. He wore a lot of pink for some reason.”

Law looked at Tsuru and nodded. Sengoku had lowered his head in recognition and defeat.

“How did the power he exerted over you feel?” Tsuru asked.

The woman blinked and hesitated for a moment. “Like strings,” she then said. “Like strings were attached to my limbs and I couldn't control them anymore. Except he was also in my brain, so it was half me and half his influence telling me that I wanted to play my pieces for him.”

Law had closed his eyes and now slowly let out the air he hadn't known he'd been holding. Hearing it from someone else's mouth, the feeling he had grown accustomed to and then, after it had been gone, had first tried to replicate and then tried so hard to forget, wasn't easy.

He already felt like he needed a break.

  


But there was no break, there was just more people, a handful of them with real stories that made Law feel that he had failed every single one of them when he had just walked away all those months ago.

He should have made sure that Doflamingo had been dead.

  


Some of them had only been robbed of possessions by him – a jacket, a watch, shoes – but others had lost some of their identity, some their children, jobs, houses. All of them had been violated.

  


  


As Law walked out of the offices after _hours_ of draining interviews he looked up into the now dark sky – devoid of stars, because when could you ever see the stars in a city like this – to take a deep breath and maybe forget all this shit, just for a moment. Instead he was greeted with a traffic cam at a lamp post and as he stared at it for a moment an idea took shape in his mind.

Then he dug for his phone in his pocket.

He had made Coby give him his number and given the kid his in return. Not because Law wanted to talk to him, but because he wanted Coby to call him if he had doubts, instead of going to harass Corazón. He could take it. He had to.

The police academy seemed to have drilled a lot of discipline into the kid because Coby picked up after the second ring.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it's Law.”

Coby gasped a little. “Did something happen?”

“Not really,” Law said quickly and rolled his eyes. Of course he would be nervous and on edge. “Listen, I have a favor to ask. Do you want to help catch Doflamingo?”

“Yes,” Coby said, no hesitation at all. “How can I help?”

“Can you get access to police cam footage? Traffic cams and shit?”

“Uh, sure,” Coby said and Law could almost hear the frown. “Who are you looking for?”

Law sighed. “Myself.”

He figured if he could find himself on the cameras, he could also find whoever had been taking pictures of him for Doflamingo. He knew it would take forever to even find the footage, let alone go through it, but there was a good chance he could get somewhere with this. And if he could find whoever had been watching him, he could also get to Doflamingo again.

“Alright… okay,” Coby said, sounding a little confused. “You got any specific times and places? Because otherwise that's gonna be a lot of footage.”

“Hilarious. Yeah, I'm gonna text you dates and locations.” Who did he think Law was? He wasn't a damn amateur.

“Good. Got you. I'm gonna get on that,” Coby said, nervousness obvious in his voice.

“Yeah, bye.” Law felt sorry for him but he didn't have time for him right now.

He needed to figure out his own shit.

First of all he needed to find the nearest store that would sell him some whiskey so he didn't have to go bother Luffy all the time.

And he would go from there.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heya, welcome back!!
> 
> this chapter contains a gun and some more needles than average, so be aware of that

 

Law didn't like the feeling of being watched. But it was all-encompassing now. Always on his mind and in his limbs.

He kept looking for people with cameras or their phones out in crowds, kept turning because he felt his neck prickle with someone's gaze, but never quite catching anyone. He hated this paranoia. He had thought he had finally shaken it.

He had another round of interviews the next day and the work from his client was set for that evening, so he was already a bundle of nerves by the time he arrived at the lawyers offices and it didn't get better during the day.

The only good thing he could say about that day's interviews was that they wouldn't have to do any more. They – or more accurately _he_ – had weeded out all the fake stories from the true ones and already told the people of the previous day to come back.

As Law watched them all file into one of the conference rooms he felt dread pooling in his guts. He followed them but didn't cross the threshold, instead he hovered in the doorway and looked on as they gathered around the table.

“Exchange numbers,” he told them, “and stories.”

One of the women turned to him, surprise on her face. “You're not staying?” she asked.

Law laughed. “Group therapy isn't really for me,” he said. “I tried.”

He didn't want to talk about his feelings, he wanted to drown and bury them, preferably after he sent Doflamingo back to hell. But none of these people would understand that, despite having gone through similar things. He was just too far gone.

He turned to leave and closed the door behind him, only to come face to face with Mocha.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, some files cradled in her arms. “Wow, you're an asshole.”

“Yeah, I know.” He pushed past her.

“You should talk to someone, you know,” she called after him.

“I know,” he repeated. He wasn't oblivious, just self-destructive.

  


  


  


Coby hadn't called back with any info regarding the police camera footage yet and Law was getting antsy, even though he knew that it would take some time to find every camera for the times and locations he had asked for.

So Law tried his best not to think about it, which was hard, considering he couldn't drink until he had finished his work for the day.

  


At this point his job only took time and energy away from his quest to bring down Doflamingo, but he needed to fund his alcohol habit and his hunt somehow. So he packed his bag and went to the place Shalulia had specified.

It was an apartment complex uptown that her husband owned, some of the flats were in the process of being renovated and as such it didn't have a lot of tenants.

Law leaned on one of the cars parked across the street while he waited for the husband – he was pretty sure Shalulia had said his name was Carl, but it could also have been Paul; the point was: the didn't care. He hadn't dared to take his thermos with him since this wasn't a simple stake-out, so the only things in his bag were his camera and his keys. His phone and the syringe with sufentanil were safely tucked away in his jacket pockets so he could reach them quickly.

Around half an hour after he had arrived a man that matched the picture Shalulia had provided him with came walking down the street and Law watched him walk into the building.

“Here we go,” he mumbled and pulled his hood up, looked both ways and crossed the street in a few jogged steps.

He counted to thirty while he waited outside the front door and then followed his subject inside.

A large part of the flat being under construction was to his benefit because it meant he would be able to sneak in easily. The meeting spot for Shalulia's husband and his lover wasn't hard to spot either, there was only one door in the house with light seeping out under the door.

The flat to the left of it had its front door standing ajar and when Law carefully pushed it open it revealed an empty, dark hallway with building equipment standing at the walls.

He found the balcony quickly and that door wasn't locked either, so he allowed himself a quick look around the rooftops of the neighborhood before he climbed atop the balustrade and swayed there for a moment before he jumped to the balcony next to it. A fall probably wouldn't have killed him, but then again he wasn't sure if he would have minded.

Still, he stood firmly on the concrete of the second balcony and tried to peer through the half-closed curtains of the flat's living room. It seemed to be empty but he could just barely make out light coming from an open door that probably belonged to a bedroom. He carefully pushed at the door and was glad to find that one unlocked, too. People in safe neighborhoods could just leave everything unlocked – Law had a vague recollection of living in the country for a few years and never locking their doors; but that had been a long time ago.

He padded across the living room as quietly as he could. He knew that he would have been able to walk even quieter if he had taken his shoes off, but the risk wasn't worth it.

The bedroom had a glass window in the door but that too had curtains. He could only see silhouettes and any evidence photographs would be useless unless he entered the room. Still he pressed close to it, trying to assess the situation inside the room. Two figures where moving around and he recognized the husband's shape in one of them.

  


“I know you're there, Trafalgar Law,” a singsong voice sounded from within the room and Law automatically took two steps backwards, his heart beating somewhere high up in his throat. “Come in.”

He balled his hands to fists at his side for a moment before trying to relax them and immediately digging into his pocket for the sufentanil. How had they known? 

“Come in, come in,” the voice continued and it sounded eerily familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

Law wanted to turn and run. But he made himself press down the handle, because he needed answers, he needed clarity, he needed less fucking mystery and darkness in his life. And he had never been afraid to do his job, so he wouldn’t start now.

When he stepped into the room he saw Shalulia sitting on the bed, her husband standing by the foot of it.

Shalulia looked pale in the dim light, a weird smile on her lips while something between anticipation and fear glimmered in her eyes.

“What is this?” Law asked, realizing that it had been her who had called out to him.

“We,” the husband said, “wanted to ask you something.”

“If you do that and still pay, I'm good.” Law couldn't help it. He hated being toyed with and these people obviously only had their own entertainment in mind. He wasn't sure what they were aiming for here, but it was obvious that the affair Shalulia had told him about to get the contract had been a ruse.

“You're not getting a cent,” Shalulia said.

“You signed a contract,” Law shot back.

“I don't care.”

And suddenly there was a gun in his line of sight, raised high in the husband's hands. Law took an automatic step back.

“How many others do you know?”

“Others _what_?” Law asked, eyeing the gun with trepidation. “What kind of game are you playing here? Did Doflamingo send you?”

The husband raised his eyebrow. “What?”

“Why are you doing this?” Law asked.

“How many others of you are there? How many Devil Fruit eaters?” the husband repeated.

Law froze. How did they know? He hadn't used his powers around Shalulia or in getting into the flat, so how had they found out? Had they been watching him too? He was so careful, so secretive, and still...

“How many more of you will trash this city? How many more of you will take away our things and rights and freedom?” the man continued, obviously working himself up into a rage. The gun was shaking in his hands.

“You're here for revenge,” Law realized. “This has nothing to do with Doflamingo... But how do you _know_?”

“Enel was one of our business partners,” Shalulia said, stepping closer to her husband.

Fucking rich people. Fucking rich people and their rich people alliances and their inability to take threats for what they were. Enel shouldn't have told anyone. No one should have believed him.

Law should have been able to rely on his anonymity.

“Great, so you're here to avenge your corrupt friend. How is that better, or different at all, from what I did?”

“Shut up,” Shalulia said. “People like you shouldn't exist.”

“I doubt he's bullet proof,” the husband mumbled.

“Do it,” Shalulia said.

Law felt sick.

He was anything but bullet proof, but he wasn't about to tell them that. They would shoot him anyway, no matter what he said, and he wasn't going to show them his fear.

“Shoot me. Try it. I'll throw the bullet back in your face.”

“Do it,” Shalulia repeated, putting her hand on her husband's as if to pull the trigger herself.

The husband did it. There was a loud bang and then a searing pain in Law's right shoulder.

“Fuck!” he swore.

“Not bulletproof,” Shalulia said gleefully.

“Room,” Law said and his voice had dropped a few notes in anger. The blue dome rose and stretched across him, the room, the couple. His hands were shaking but he was too angry to care. Prying the bullet out of his flesh was easy, he knew exactly what to do, his knowledge and his powers guiding him.

And he was _livid_.

He let the bullet drop in his left hand and raised it, showing them the bullet swirling a few centimeters above his palm. “Fuck you,” he said, his voice trembling with rage. “Fuck you for thinking you can do this to another human being just because I'm not exactly like you. You have all the _money_ in the world and you fucking abuse your power and you just want more and _more_.”

He released the bullet from his hand with force, putting a push behind it that let it whiz barely past the husband's ear. Law wished he had put it through his head.

“You're upset? Well guess _fucking what_. I don't care. No one should have to care about _your_ feelings.”

He extended both of his arms now, ignoring the blood that trickled down from the wound in his shoulder and soaked his shirt. He could deal with that later.

“You know what other people do? They internalize that shit. They don't take it out on other people. I'm sick of it! I don't give a shit!”

He made a slashing motion with the syringe he had forgotten he was still holding and split the husband neatly in half at the waist. Shalulia gasped and stumbled away to the side. Law grinned.

“You want to have something to be really upset about?” Law yelled and slammed the husband's upper body against the back wall of the bedroom while his legs remained standing.

Furniture in the entire room had started floating now, losing gravity rapidly thanks to Law's rage-fueled powers. He could feel power surging through him and despite the anger he felt stronger and better than he had in a year – no, more.

“Take your shit fucking feelings somewhere else!” Law screamed and let the husband's torso crash into Shalulia, who toppled over with a shout. Another slash and there were two heads suspended in the air. She screamed again. “Nobody cares! Nobody cares if you're hurting!”

He let his left hand fly through the air, the furniture whipping over the couple's heads and slamming into a mirror on the wall, shattering it into a million pieces.

“You don't have the right to presume _anything_! You don't get to do this!”

There were now shards of glass and wood flying everywhere, piercing the walls and even his own clothing but Law didn't care. All he could see were the terrified eyes of the couple and all he could think was how they deserved it, deserved it, deserved it.

“I didn't chose this,” Law screamed. “I didn't want any of this!”

His powers had saved his life – several times since the first and essential time – but he had never wanted to eat the Devil Fruit. He had never had a choice.

He let the furniture crash to the floor but left the couple's heads floating above him.

“I see you, all high and mighty, but in the end you're _nothing_.”

  


He stood in the middle of the room, breathing heavily and wished he could kill them, could crush their hearts for a what they had done.

When he stretched out his hand towards them, it wasn't shaking.

“Ninety-nine,” he told them calmly. “I know ninety-nine more Devil Fruit Eaters and every single one of them is better than you.”

“Please,” the husband howled, “ _please_! We're sorry! I'm so sorry.”

It was a lie. He had lost contact with almost all the Devil Fruit eaters he had ever met, except Luffy and his friends.

Suddenly his room collapsed and Law felt a wave of exhaustion rushing over him, crushing him and dragging him down. Shalulia and her husband's heads fell to the floor, both of them whimpering and begging.

Law realized what he had been doing. What he had done.

Bile rose in his throat.

His knees gave out from under him and he sank to the floor himself, barely managing to lean forward before he vomited.

He had just enough strength to summon his Room again and put Shalulia and her husband back together before he stumbled from the room and out of the flat.

He didn't even make it down the stairs, bringing up the contents of his stomach again right then and there.

What had he done?

  


He wanted to get out of there as fast as possible but after he staggered into the dark street he realized that his legs wouldn't carry him much farther. The stairs had been too much already and his entire body was shaken with the force of his guilt and the exhaustion of using his powers excessively.

When he reached for his pocket to find his phone he noticed that he was still holding the syringe of sufentanil. For a second he was relieved that he hadn't accidentally dropped it or lost it in the carnage, and then the urge to stab himself with the needle set in.

The pain would be great and the following unconsciousness would be welcome.

Tears were stinging at the corners of his eyes as he rounded a corner. He recapped the syringe with unsure fingers, reached for his bag and stuffed it down to the very bottom before he finally reached for his phone.

He leaned against a light pole and when he noticed that it still wasn't enough to hold him up he let himself sink to the ground, his back resting against the cool metal. He unlocked his phone and went to his contacts, but then his fingers stilled, hovering over the list.

He couldn't call Corazón. He couldn't disappoint him again.

What had he done?

All he could see were the terrified eyes of the couple and how he had gone too far, too far, too far.

He leaned to the side and vomited again.

  


While he was wiping his mouth his phone suddenly started vibrating in his hand and he almost dropped it when he flinched.

Luffy's name was flashing across the screen.

For a moment he stared at it, then his hand started moving on it own, unlocking the phone and accepting the call.

“Hey,” he said, his voice ten different levels of fucked up.

“Hey, I just wanted to check in.”

Law couldn’t say anything. He knew he would break if he did.

Five seconds passed. Ten.

“Torao?”

Law hung his head at the nickname that felt too familiar already, too soft, too undeserving.

“It was a trap,” he rasped into the phone, with one hand pressed to his face over his closed eyes.

“Oh,” Luffy breathed. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m outside the house… I didn’t-” He had to cut himself off to collect himself. “I didn’t make it far. I fucked up. I fucked up so badly.”

There was movement on the other end of the line, a door was opened and then closed again. “The place you were supposed to photograph her husband at?” Luffy asked. Law didn’t answer, but Luffy apparently didn’t need to confirmation. “I’ll be right there. Stay where you are!”

Law couldn’t have moved, even if he had been able to summon all his willpower, but his guilt gained another few layers when the line clicked off. He hadn’t intended to make Luffy come pick him up.

He didn’t want to be a burden anymore.

  


He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, could barely hear himself breathing over the litany of _You did it again, you did it again, what have you done_ , in his head. Then a dull roar cut through the buzzing in his head and a headlight, stronger than the dim light of the streetlight above him swept over his voice.

The roar stopped and Law realized belatedly that it was a motorcycle engine.

“Law!” Luffy said, his voice urgent but surprisingly quiet, almost at the volume of a whisper.

Law tried to find him with unfocused eyes.

“Are you hurt?” Luffy asked. Law opened his mouth to say that he was fine, even though it would be painfully obvious that he was lying, but he could only cough and Luffy’s hands were already ghosting over his arms. “Shit, you’re bleeding!”

Law looked down at himself with some effort. The blood that had run down his side and arm stood out starkly against the light he was bathed in.

“Bullet wound,” he said, although it felt like he was barely able to bring the words past his lips. “’s no bullet anymore though.”

Luffy frowned at him. “What happened?” Law didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. “You need a doctor.”

That one almost made Law laugh. God, he could help himself. He just couldn’t say it. The last thing he wanted was to get more people involved. But all that escaped him was a low groan when he tried to move his shoulder.

“Can you stand?” Luffy asked after it became evident that Law wasn’t going to say anything and rose up a little, one of his hands outstretched.

Law sighed, grit his teeth and took his hand with his left, letting himself be pulled up despite the pain searing through his other shoulder. He couldn’t stay here, despite how much moving and relying on Luffy hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Luffy said when Law let out a pained hiss. “I’m gonna get you to Chopper.”

Law shook his head despite the dizziness and nausea. “No,” he said. “I can… fix this myself.”

“Like hell you can,” Luffy said with a frown, coming up on Law’s good arm to support him. “You couldn’t even get home, there’s no way you could sew up your own bullet wound.”

“I’m like… half a doctor,” Law said, laughing slightly about his own words. “I can close and dress my own damn bullet wound, believe me.”

Luffy didn’t say anything but Law could feel the disapproval radiating of him. Instead he opted to help Law the few steps to his motorcycle.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a car,” he said. “I’m gonna drive slowly but you gotta hold onto me with your left arm, okay?” He produced a second helmet from somewhere – Law literally did not see it before Luffy suddenly had it in his hands; maybe his vision had shorted out – and put it on Law’s head carefully. “Okay?”

“Ugh,” was the only answer Law was capable of but he slid onto the seat behind Luffy anyway. Anything to get out of here and pass out somewhere that had a roof.

“Let me know if you think you can’t hold yourself anymore.”

The machine roared to life and Law put his good arm around Luffy. He didn’t think Luffy would be able to hear him over the noise if he _did_ say anything, but it didn’t matter. He just had to stay on this bike for a little while. Just a little while longer.

The growl of the engine soothed Law, making him almost feel like his body didn’t belong to him, like the nausea was contained to another man’s stomach and didn’t affect him, like his brain was wrapped in cotton and gauze, like the tremors running up his arms existed only in a distant reality.

His cheek ended up pillowed on Luffy’s back. He imagined he could feel Luffy’s heartbeat through the thick fabric of his jacket.

  


Then the noise cut off and the bike stilled beneath them. The silence was deafening.

“Where are we?” Law asked, not recognizing the apartment building at first.

“My place,” Luffy said. “Yours is further away and I already called Chopper to come here.”

Law couldn’t remember when he had done so, or if he had really done it at all. His head was fuzzy. He let Luffy help him off the bike and together they stumbled up the few steps to the entrance.

The building didn’t have an elevator so they had to climb the stairs torturously slow. Thankfully Luffy lived on the second floor.

“Usopp is probably still awake but he usually listens to his music really loudly on his headphones so he might not even notice us,” Luffy said when he unlocked the front door and Law remembered that Luffy did in fact share his flat with Usopp – had been for a year.

In his muddled brain it registered as funny, first; Luffy moving in with someone after a tragedy while Law couldn’t get out of his forced flat share with Corazón fast enough. Then he remembered why the room in the apartment had been free in the first place and he wanted to walk right back out through the door he had just dragged himself in through.

  


Contrary to Luffy’s statement, Usopp was loitering in the hallway outside his room with Chopper.

“Ah, oops,” Luffy made, apparently not feeling embarrassed in the slightest. “Hey guys. A little help here?”

Usopp glared at him but when his eyes found Law’s shoulder the expression quickly fell from his face, only to be replaced by shock and something that Law vaguely recognized as the green disposition of someone who couldn’t see blood.

“Oh shit,” Usopp said and vanished into his room without another word.

Chopper took one long look at Law and then frowned at Luffy. “Put him in the kitchen, my kit’s there.”

“Okay,” Luffy said and to the kitchen they went. Law felt a little better now that he was inside somewhere and didn’t run the risk of getting hypothermia on top of an infected bullet wound.

“What happened?” Chopper asked.

Luffy pulled a chair towards them with his foot and Law sat down gratefully. “Got shot,” he said.

“Get me some scissors,” Chopper said to Luffy and Luffy vanished quickly.

“I swear to god if you cut my jacket I will end you,” Law said.

Chopper rolled their eyes. “It’s ruined anyway.”

“It’s just one little bullet hole,” Law said. “I can fix that.”

“I can’t help you through two layers of clothing,” Chopper said. “But if you’d rather bleed out, by all means...”

“Yeah, I _know_ ,” Law snapped, already moving to shimmy out of his jacket. It was agonizing and sent new waves of pain through his shoulder but that jacket was important to him and it had been expensive, so he wasn’t going to let it get cut. 

Luffy reappeared and helped him out of the jacket.

“You can cut the shirt,” Law sighed.

Luffy looked at him with pursed lips for a moment but then took his kitchen scissors to the hem of Law’s shirt until he had the front cut in half, neatly separating above his chest. 

“Jesus,” Chopper said, taking a closer look at the wound when Luffy peeled the shirt off of Law’s arm. “Is the bullet still inside?”

“Nah,” Law said. “Got it out.”

“ _How_?”

He grinned, although it probably ended up kind of lopsided. “Trade secret.”

“Ohh, does it have to do with your powers?” Luffy asked and suddenly Law felt like throwing up again.

“This is hardly the time,” Chopper said, rifling through their med kit and putting disinfectant, cotton swabs and bandages on the kitchen table. “You can ask him about his powers when he’s not bleeding out.”

Law preferred not to have any talks about his abilities at all.

Finally Chopper slammed down a package of curved needles and surgical thread on the table and Law closed his eyes for a second. He had really wanted to avoid this, but for all his powers could do, this part he hadn’t figured out yet.

Chopper began cleaning the wound with precise, practiced motions. Law wondered how many bullet wounds they already had had to treat in this city.

“I don’t understand why you couldn’t just go to the hospital,” Chopper said through gritted teeth. “I don’t have any anesthetic here, so this is really going to hurt.”

“Can’t hurt more than it already does,” Law mumbled, then grinned a little. “You got any aspirin or alcohol?”

Chopper looked at him with pitying eyes. “That would probably make things worse rather than better.”

“I know,” Law said and he wanted to laugh again. “I’m a doctor, too.”

“You,” Chopper said decisively, “are no doctor.” And with that last word he pushed the needle through the broken skin on Law’s shoulder for the first time.

Law pressed his teeth together but let out a low grunt anyway.

“Could’ve given you that sufentanil you carry around in your pocket like a damn maniac,” Chopper hissed while they sewed Law back together. “But since you fucking need it for your revenge slash suicide mission you probably wouldn’t forgive me and then _I_ would have to get you more.”

“I could just – _shit_ – just go and steal some more myself,” Law said because being unconscious sounded amazing right now.

“Not with just one functioning arm you won’t.”

Law had to admit that Chopper was right. The sufentanil was too important to waste on this wound. He would heal. He would be okay. Because he always was.

Chopper finishing suturing the wound and eyed it again for a moment before dressing it. “If this gets infected it’s your own fault,” they told Law.

“I know,” Law said.

Chopper pointed a finger at Luffy. “I can’t believe you called me for this instead of going to a hospital.”

Luffy only shrugged. “I know him,” he said, as if that explained anything at all. His face morphed into a grin. “You want a drink?”

“No way, I’m going home,” Chopper said.

Usopp peeked into the kitchen. “Are you done?”

“Yes, all the blood is gone.”

“You look terrible,” Usopp told Law.

“Thanks,” Law mumbled drily.

“You want something to eat?” Luffy asked and Law considered being offended that he didn’t offer him a drink, but then again Luffy was a bartender and knew when to stop serving for people who had fucked up one too many times.

He sighed and shook his head. “Doubt I could keep it down.”

The pain of the wound had shaken him out of his dissociated stupor but he still felt the reality of what he had done course through every vein in his body.

Luffy looked at him for a moment, considering, before nodding. “Alright. You should sleep then.”

“Uh.” Law blinked at him and tried to stand up. “Yeah, I guess I should get home...”

“That’s not what I meant.” Luffy was there immediately to steady him with a hand on his good arm even though Law didn’t think he needed it.

“Well if I want to sleep I should get home,” Law said. He didn’t want to sleep as much as he wanted to be unconscious. It sounded wonderful in theory, to not be aware of his surroundings and what he had done for a while, but he knew it would just haunt him in his dreams. Because he was just that lucky.

“You can stay here tonight,” Luffy said and Law wanted to do anything but, wanted to run far away and never look Luffy in the eye again. But he knew from his tone and the grip on his arm that Luffy wouldn’t let him go home.

And maybe it was for the better.

  


He expected Luffy to put him onto the sofa in the small living room but instead he led the way into his own room.

“I don’t think-,” Law started but Luffy waved a hand dismissively.

“The couch is the most uncomfortable place to sleep on,” he said, “and I wanna keep an eye on you.”

“I’ve been living alone for most of my adult life,” Law said, hovering unsurely in the middle of the room. “I really don’t need a babysitter.”

“Yeah, but if you rip open your wound again Chopper is going to take my head off right with yours.”

As much truth as there was in that statement, Law didn’t feel good about sharing a bed with Luffy.

Luffy of course didn’t share his worries. He just kicked off his jeans and threw back the covers before looking back at Law.

“You want one of my shirts to sleep in?” he asked.

Law looked down at himself, still shirtless, even some blood on his own jeans.

“I guess,” he said. “But I doubt it would fit me.”

Luffy eyed him for a moment and Law had to consciously suppress the nervous fidgeting he wanted to do under Luffy’s intense gaze. “Hmm, you’re pretty thin but yeah, probably. Hold on, I’ll see what I can find.”

Lufy left the room again, maybe to ask Usopp for a shirt, and Law sighed. He dragged his left hand through his hair and closed his eyes for a second. This was so wrong.

He definitely couldn’t sleep in his jeans, either though. They were uncomfortable and would make Luffy’s bed dirty.

When Luffy returned Law had just stepped out of his jeans and placed them neatly folded on a chair, so when he heard the door and turned he was only in his boxers. Luffy didn’t seem to notice but instead triumphantly held up a shirt.

“Still had one of Sabo’s,” he said with a grin and threw the shirt at Law who reflexively tried to catch it with his right hand and fumbled. He had to pick it up with his left. For a moment he wondered who Sabo was until he remembered him as the remaining brother who was abroad. Studying? Working? He couldn’t remember.

“Sorry,” Luffy said. “Ah, wait, can you even put it on?”

Law frowned. “I can try,” he said.

Raising his arm over his head was almost impossible but he grit his teeth through the pain and prayed that his stitches wouldn’t rip. He was glad Chopper wasn’t here. Before he could lower his hands again to pull the shirt completely down his torso Luffy was there to straighten it out and Law flinched slightly.

“Sorry,” Luffy repeated, taking a step back.

Law smoothed a hand over the shirt. “It’s okay,” he said. And strangely, it was.

“Come on,” Luffy said, offering him his hand. “Let’s sleep.”

Law followed him to the bed and carefully sat down, watched as Luffy got comfortable. It didn’t seem to take long, he just burrowed under the covers, let his head fall on the pillow and grinned up at Law, patting the pillow next to him. Law sighed and stretched out carefully. He knew he had to sleep. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Wake me if you need anything,” Luffy said, his angled face looking serious in the dim light of the room. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Law echoed quietly.

  


Sleep didn’t come easy, the events of the night kept replaying in front of Law’s eyes when he closed them.

Luffy had already drifted off by the time Law wondered if he would sleep at all. So he kept his eyes open for a while.

Luffy had fallen asleep with his body turned towards Law, his face young and quiet in the night, innocent, a hand splayed between them on the sheets. Law wished he could always be like that. Law wished he could be like that himself.

Two things he had taken from them both.

Still, watching Luffy was cathartic. It made him remember that they were both still here and they would make it through the night.

Finally his eyes started to grow heavy. 

  


When Law woke up his eyes stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling.

For a moment he couldn’t quite place where he was, feeling like he was floating in nothing, until he looked to his left and found Luffy’s soft, asleep face.

Immediately the now dull throbbing in his shoulder was replaced by the sharp twinge of guilt. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

He pushed himself up with his left arm and slowly, carefully slid out of bed so he didn’t wake Luffy, padding across the room and out into the hall towards the bathroom on his bare feet.

After he peed he looked at himself in the mirror for a long time.

What was he doing here? What was he doing to both of them? Hadn’t he done enough bad for one day?

  


When he returned to the bedroom, the small sliver of light from the hallway was reflected by a picture frame on Luffy’s crowded desk and caught Law’s eye. He crept over towards it.

The picture showed three teenagers. In the middle an obviously younger Luffy, showing a toothy grin and a victory sign. To his right was a blond kid who had to be Sabo, an arm thrown around Luffy and his gaze angled towards the left instead of the camera. And on the right, the boy Sabo was looking at, was… Law bit his lip and had to look away. It was Ace, of course. He had known, but still, he had had to look.

His stomach churned.

How often would he repeat his mistakes before he would stop calling them that? Maybe he really was just a monster.

“Are you really a doctor?”

Law flinched and whirled around. Luffy was sitting up in his bed, looking at him, his hair mussed from sleep.

“You’re awake,” Law said, stupidly.

Luffy smiled sleepily. “You looking at my family?” he asked.

Law closed his eyes for a second. “Yeah...”

“You didn’t answer my first question.”

“I was going to be,” he finally admitted. Maybe it was time to come clean.

“What happened?”

He couldn’t do this. “Life happened.” God, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t bare his soul for Luffy, he couldn’t tell him that it hadn’t been freak accident that had killed his brother but him. 

“I’m gonna go home,” he said, suddenly. He needed to leave or he would something he would regret, one way or another.

He already regretted too much.

Luffy frowned at him. “It’s the middle of the night, still.”

“I’ll take a taxi,” Law said, already putting on his jeans. He couldn’t be here. He should never have agreed to come here.

“Torao,” Luffy said, getting up hurriedly, “whatever happened tonight – whatever happened back then – it wasn’t your fault.”

The nickname stung now. Law shook his head furiously. “You don’t know that!” His voice broke. His resolve was breaking. He needed to get out of here.

He grabbed his boots and jacket in the hallway and wrenched the door open.

“Torao!” Luffy shouted after him. He was going to wake up Usopp. “ _Law_! Wait!”

Law didn’t wait. He stumbled down the stairs, pain in his arm and pressure in his chest and he wanted to run until he left the city and the guilt behind.

Luffy stopped chasing him at the front door of the building.

Law didn’t even put his boots on until he was around the corner. He ignored the way it pulled at his stitches. He had to be able to take care of himself, because all he ever did for other people was hurt them. And then he couldn’t even be honest with them.

The only thing he was good at was running away.

  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i do indeed enjoy making people tell law "you need a doctor" and him just rolling his eyes :P


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello friends! sorry, again, for the long pause between updates but im back in school full-time and im basically constantly exhausted, so i can only write a couple hundred words at a time
> 
> anyway, welcome back to emo time, or something...

 

  


Law didn’t talk to anyone for two days.

He knew he would have to eventually, because if he shut out Luffy another time he would just come knocking at his door again with breakfast and the relentless questions he was so good at. And this time Law wouldn’t be able to lie to him anymore.

His self-imposed isolation was starting to get to him, too.

Still, he turned his phone off for the next twenty-four hours, because he couldn’t face himself and he couldn’t face anyone else.

His shower that morning, when he got home from Luffy’s place, was scalding hot and burnt on his skin. He knew it couldn’t be good for the wound, but he didn’t care. He’d dress it again after he was done and if it got infected, he’d deal with that, too, eventually.

For now he watched the bloodied water run down the drain and tried not to submit to the nausea. He wanted – needed – to feel the pain.

After he was done he sat on the closed lid of his toilet, naked, and drank what was left of his stash. He would have to go out later to get more at the corner store, but first he had to make sure he noticed as little of his surroundings as possible. He didn’t want to be able to see people’s faces in the crowds and constantly have to wonder if they were the one tailing him.

Getting dressed only happened slowly, carefully. He didn’t pull on a t-shirt but just shrugged on a hoodie and left the zipper open.

  


Instead of going out, he passed out on the sofa in his office.

He woke up hours later in a cold sweat, his heart beating wildly and his hair and clothes sticking to his skin. The only thing he could remember where eyes, eyes everywhere, raking over his naked, exposed body and leaving him feeling raw and dirty – even after waking up.

He considered showering again but he knew he didn’t have the energy to take care of his wound again so he only got up, stuck his head under the kitchen faucet and then changed into something that wouldn’t get him arrested when he left the house. That mostly meant zipping up his hoodie and throwing on a coat and a scarf, since it had grown colder outside over the last few days.

The store wasn’t far away and he was back in his flat within twenty minutes, but he couldn’t shake the uneasiness that being outside left him with.

Agoraphobia had never been a problem he couldn’t at least quench with some alcohol or the good, old-fashioned recital of street names but he hadn’t dared to stop and do his whole routine this time around. By now he had to admit to himself that he wasn’t doing well – and it was all his own fault.

He drank until he couldn’t think anymore, until he could barely see anymore and lost all feeling in his fingertips. Until the world seemed a little more pleasant. Until sleep felt like something desirable instead of an unwelcome need.

This time he slept without dreaming, but when he woke up he vomited all over his hallway floor because he didn’t make it to the bathroom in time. That was the second time he thought about calling Corazón. Cora was the only one who came close to knowing how he felt right now – but in calling him he would also have to admit what he had done, and Law couldn’t deal with that. The guilt was threatening to overwhelm him as it was already.

So he cleaned up the vomit and retreated to his bedroom.

He couldn’t fall back asleep so he grew restless and got up again, wandering his flat in nervous circles. He felt caged and hunted at the same time, like every decision he could possibly make was wrong and like the only thing he could do right now was to wait for something to happen.

It had been his decision not to run but to try to beat Doflamingo.

The problem was that Doflamingo was much stronger than he was. And Law had never been good at the waiting game if it concerned himself.

  


  


The night of the second day, when Law had just dozed off on his sofa after not feeling properly awake the whole day, there was a knock on his door.

He considered not answering but he knew that it was most likely Luffy, Bepo and Corazón – in that order – and two of those people would not hesitate to break down his door. So he dragged himself to his door and opened it a crack to look at his unwanted visitor.

It was Chopper. Law could only barely hold back a groan. Doctors were the worst house guests.

“Don’t you know how to use a doorbell?” he asked and opened the door a little wider. Chopper only raised an eyebrow.

“I want to take a look at your wound,” they said.

“I figured,” Law said and stepped aside so they could come in. “It’s not infected.”

Chopper gave him a doubtful look and crossed the threshold. “Let me be the judge of that.”

Law didn’t roll his eyes but it was a close call. Instead he led Chopper into his office, stripped off his sweatshirt and sat down on the sofa. He was about to unwrap the wound himself, too, but Chopper batted his hands away and did it instead.

“You a control freak?” Law asked.

“No,” Chopper said and threw the gauze and bandage in the trash, “I just like to do things properly.” They walked over to Law’s desk to get his chair and pulled it over next to the sofa.

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Chopper gave him another look and sat down. Law figured that he had provoked them enough.

They took some gloves out of their bag and put them on, then started examining the wound and stitches, prodding at it slightly.

“Well, it looks good enough,” they finally said but still frowned a little.

“See, told you so...” Law mumbled.

Chopper took some gauze from their bag, too. “You should keep it covered for another day and then let it breathe,” they advised. Law hummed noncommittally – he had planned on doing just that already anyway. Chopper started dressing the wound again. They worked fast and precise and once again Law thought about what could have been.

They were nothing alike but he couldn’t help but wonder.

“You’re a doctor, huh?” Chopper said, almost conversationally.

Law froze. “No,” he then said. It was both a negation of the question and a rebuttal of the conversation.

“A medical student, then,” Chopper continued guessing.

Law closed his eyes in defeat. Maybe they were a mind reader on top of half-human – although rationally he knew that that wasn’t possible. “Yes,” he grit out, reopening his eyes. “I was on the fast track because I had some expertise through my parents. But I fucked up… badly and I can’t go back.”

Chopper frowned. “How badly?” They had finished their work on Law’s arm and leaned back, looking at him with concern and skepticism.

“Privately,” Law added, unable to meet their eyes. “I fucked up really badly in my private life and it carried over into my studies, so I couldn’t continue...”

“Does it have to do with your powers, too?” Chopper asked.

“Yes.” Law tried to breathe. “But I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. He couldn’t. He knew using his powers would end badly and he still had done it and then he had lost control again in the worst way. Talking about it meant reliving it and he was already unstable enough.

Chopper clicked their tongue. It sounded like a noise born from dissatisfaction. “It obviously pains you a lot. You should talk about it, you know.” They held up a hoof as Law opened his mouth to object. “I respect that you don’t want to, though.”

“They’re destructive,” Law mumbled. “I always end up hurting people with my powers...”

For a moment Chopper seemed to hesitate, then they reached out and patted Law’s good arm comfortingly. “You know, I thought the same thing about myself for a long time.”

Law shrugged, effectively throwing off Chopper’s hand. That wouldn’t help him. The past tense made him all too aware that whatever issues Chopper had had, they had gotten over them. He hadn’t, and he knew how deep rooted his trauma was. Chances were that he would never get over it enough to feel anything but terror and disgust after using his powers.

“Alright,” Chopper said, gathering their thinks and getting up again. “I’ll leave you alone for now.”

Suddenly Law remembered who he was talking to. “You can’t tell Luffy,” he said, still refusing to meet Choppers eyes.

“Why not?” It sounded soft but confused. And Law couldn’t explain.

“He can’t know,” he only said. “He’ll ask too many questions...” He was afraid of what Luffy could find out, of what Luffy could make of him, of Luffy’s endless optimism and the things it could do to them both.

Chopper sighed. “Okay, I’m not going to ask any more.” Law could feel their gaze burning into the top of his head, his eyes still stubbornly fixed on the floorboards.

He knew that he had already said too much. Chopper was smart – they had to know something involving Luffy had to have happened and it wasn’t too hard to guess what it had been.

And the worst part was that Luffy would only have to go to Corazón to find out everything. Sure, Corazón was loyal and he knew there were things Law didn’t talk about, things he didn’t lie about but also didn’t want people to know, but he also loved to talk and sometimes he let something slip. One wrong word and Luffy and his friends would put it together and then Law was finished.

Chopper walked away, obviously satisfied with letting themselves out without getting a thank you, but stopped at the door. Finally Law looked up.

“But you know he’ll find out eventually, right? He always does.” They looked sad.

That was what Law was afraid of most and he could barely stand it.

  


  


  


When his doorbell rang the next time – the next day – dread washed over him. He pulled on a shirt and went to look through the peephole, silently praying that it wasn’t Luffy. Had he come to call him out? To barge in and demand the answers he deserved?

He was slightly relieved when he discovered that it was Coby.

Law unlocked the door with a sigh and eyed the kid with a hint of trepidation.

“Hi,” Coby said immediately. “I got your movie.” He held up an unlabeled DVD. “It’s a couple hours long but uh, I guess that’s what you wanted...”

Law snatched the disc from his hand. “Thanks.”

“Need some help with watching?” Coby asked.

Law leveled him with a disbelieving stare. “Not really, no.”

Coby grimaced. “Yeah, I get it. I wouldn’t-” He stopped himself, squinted, and whirled around. “Hey, you!”

Law saw Bepo twitch behind his half-opened door and pull it shut quickly. Coby stalked over in long strides and Law followed him instinctively. He knew a paranoid freakout when he saw one; Bepo was weird but very far from dangerous.

“I saw you!” Coby started banging on Bepo’s door. “Why were you watching us?”

“Calm down,” Law said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Leave him alone, he’s harmless. He just doesn’t like strangers, he was probably trying to make sure you weren’t going to blow up the place. With what’s happened here lately and your track record I can’t blame him.”

His words made Coby deflate quickly. “Oh.” He took a few steps back and leaned against the opposite wall. Law watched him close his eyes and take a few steadying breaths, wringing his hands. “I’m sorry,” Coby mumbled, opening his eyes again. “I swear I can control it, I swear I know how, it’s just...”

“I know. It takes time,” Law said. “Listen, there’s a group… A survivor’s group, kind of. I bet that would help you.” Coby looked at him with doubtful eyes. “Yeah, I’m not too fond of the idea either but I guess it’ll put things into perspective.”

Law motioned for Coby to follow him and made a mental note to apologize to Bepo on his behalf later.

“I’ll ask the group members if I can give you their numbers,” he said, “or if they’d prefer it if you just came to the meeting once. It’s in a small diner and you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Law had been invited into the group chat himself – against his will. At least it meant that he got to keep tabs on where his precious witnesses were.

He texted the group and wrote down the diner’s name already anyway, hoping that Coby wouldn’t abuse his knowledge.

He watched Coby take off with a sense of sympathy and fear.

  


  


It took him a while to work up the courage, even though he was burning to find answers. But he was dreading what he would see on those tapes, which nameless, faceless person he would have to see and ultimately confront to save Rebecca, and himself, and possibly the entire city.

But finally Law sat down with his Laptop, poured himself a glass of whiskey and started watching his own personal horror movie.

Half an hour later he was sure that finding anyone that showed up repetitively in those tapes was impossible.

He groaned, downed his third glass and tipped back in his chair, closing his eyes firmly.

Finally he decided to give it up for today and go visit Bepo instead to apologize for Coby’s behavior. At least that was a less hopeless endeavor.

He crossed the hall and knocked on Bepo’s door softly. “Hey, it’s Law,” he said. He could hear Bepo shuffling around inside. “I’m sorry about earlier. He’s police and got into a bad situation a few days back so he’s a bit jumpy.”

“It’s fine,” Bepo said through the door after a moment, then it clicked open a crack. “It’s my fault for lurking, anyway.” Only one eye and part of Bepo’s bleached hair were visible but Law counted it as a win.

Law laughed a little. “You lurk, it’s your thing.” He paused and leaned against the wall next to the door. “Point is, he acted out of line and you did nothing wrong.”

It took a few seconds for Bepo to answer. “If you say so,” he mumbled.

“Just...” Law sighed. “Try not to take it to heart, okay?”

“Yeah,” Bepo mumbled.

“You want to have some tea?” Law asked. He didn’t particularly feel like it, but maybe spending some time with Bepo would get his mind off things.

“Not really,” Bepo said, shaking his head. “Thank you though.”

Law pushed himself off the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Alright,” he said. “See you later then!”

For a moment he hovered after the door clicked shut again, unsure if he should go back to his flat or to go out and roam the streets for a while to get a clear head – but considering how the outside world made him feel at the moment he dismissed the option. So he went back to his office and stood in front of his desk for a few moments, staring down at his still open laptop and the equally open bottle of whiskey. He sighed and reached out to screw the top back on.

Before he could his phone started vibrating on the desk and he flinched, knocking against the bottle and almost making it topple over. He grabbed it in reflex with his left hand to steady it and then reached for his phone hurriedly.

Corazón was calling.

He unlocked his phone and took the call.

“Hey,” he said, still holding the bottle with one hand.

“I hope you haven’t been ignoring me again,” Corazón opened with and Law grimaced.

“I haven’t, I just… that last job went kinda bad,” he said. “What’s up?”

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Corazón said and Law could hear equal parts glee and nervousness in his voice. “Coby came around again!”

“That’s a good thing?” Law guessed and set the phone to speaker so he could finally close the bottle and put it away.

“He gave me a gun. I told him I already have one.”

Law looked up from where he had just closed the drawer to make the bottle disappear in his desk and stared at his phone for a few seconds. He wondered if he had misheard Corazón. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, he just showed up and told me he had something for me. It was kinda adorable.”

Law wondered if Coby had already had the gun with him when he had come here and for a moment everything in him went cold. He didn’t think it was adorable – but Corazón had always been kind of weird.

“Did you take the gun?” Law asked.

“Nah,” Corazón said. “I appreciate the thought though. Besides, I think he needs the protection more than I do.” He sounded fond and a little sad.

Law raised both eyebrows and let himself drop on his sofa. “You like him,” he said. Corazón was easy to get to want to protect someone – he had a huge heart, true to his name – but it wasn’t as easy to get that particular tone of voice from him.

“Ugh,” Corazón made and Law could almost see the face he was pulling. “He’s cute, but he’s barely even legal. Also I generally don’t date people my brother fucked up, it never ends well.”

“That’s fair,” Law said. “He’s definitely way too young for you.” He left the other part uncommented, because while true it was not something they needed to talk about.

“I’m gonna keep talking to him probably,” Corazón said. “He’s not dealing well.”

“I know,” Law kicked off his boots and stretched out on the sofa. Maybe talking to Corazón would make him calm enough to sleep again. “But neither are you.”

Corazón sighed. “Yes, but the sad truth is that I’m used to it.” Maybe not, then.

“Yeah,” Law said with a little too much force, “which has had you traumatized for years, and now it’s all coming back _again_. It’s like stacking up layers of PTSD.”

“Look at you,” Corazón chuckled. “Suddenly an expert.”

_Maybe I should be_ , Law thought. _Maybe I am._

“Yeah, well, I’ve had to deal with Doflamingo fallout for a long time now,” he said instead. “I know what it looks like.”

“I know.” Corazón sobered. “You’re taking care of yourself, right?”

Law felt a pang of guilt. He was not doing well and he doubted he ever would be again – not until he rid the world of Doflamingo and confessed all his own sins, and he didn’t see the second one become reality anytime soon. But he couldn’t tell Corazón.

“I’m trying,” he said. Because that was all he could do and all he ever did. And it was better than nothing.

“Okay,” Corazón said; then he paused and Law knew what was coming. They had had this conversation a thousand times before. Only this time it felt a little different, like something had shifted. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yeah,” Law mumbled, unable to say anything else.

“I’m your brother, more than I ever was his,” Corazón continued.

“Cora…,” Law started but Corazón cut him off.

“I just want you to know you’re not alone,” he said. “Because I know how that feels and no matter what you think, you’re _not_.”

“I’m not a child, Corazón,” Law said with a sigh.

Corazón chuckled. “I’m aware. Children can ask for help.”

Law had to snort in surprise. “That was a low blow.”

“I know.” He could hear the grin in Corazón’s voice. “I know how to get you.”

“I’ll call you again, okay?” Law asked. He had work to do. Work that he couldn’t tell Corazón about – not yet, maybe.

  


The phone call left him feeling slightly guilty but also calmer than he had been all day. A look at his phone revealed that it was far too early to attempt going to sleep yet, so he heaved himself up with a sigh and walked back to his desk. Trying to get something out of the police tapes seemed worthless at the moment so he sat down and opened up the videos of the witness records from the law firm instead.

Maybe there was something he had missed.

He knew most of what these people had said by heart already, a lot of it was seared into his memory. Some of it were small things, which made it even worse, but others were bigger in their scope.

It took him a while to find something that could be helpful.

“He made me drive him around,” said a man, obviously pained by the memory. Law stopped the tapping movement of his fingers against the tabletop of his desk.

Suddenly he was all too aware of what he had to do. This guy _had_ to know something.

He took another look at the time and bit his lower lip. Finally he pushed back his chair. Fine. _Fine_. He would go. He’d go to the damn self-help group and listen to a couple people say ultimately meaningless things to each other, just so he could maybe get some useful information. He didn’t feel good about it but it had to be done.

He pulled on his boots and his coat and tried to ignore the way he hesitated at his front door.

His hands were balled into fists the entire way to the diner but he made it, slipping in quietly because everyone else was already here. No Coby, which wasn’t surprising but Law felt a little disappointed anyway – ironic, given that he wouldn’t be here himself either, if he didn’t think he would get the answers he was looking for.

Only one of the women noticed him standing close to the door and raised her hand in greeting, smiling a little. Law didn’t attempt a smile but nodded at her, then settled back into his invisibility, his anonymity – the less people recognized him the better. Here he got to be no one.

It took twenty minutes for them to get to the man he had come here for. Law found all their displays of emotion disgustingly over the top and too honest but deep down he knew he wasn’t much better himself. And he was also aware of the little thrum of jealousy under his sternum. Maybe this would help them to heal, and he would never have that privilege.

Instead of focusing on that feeling he chose to listen to the man.

“He said ‘You want him to leave’ and suddenly I did. I made my own son get out of the car and left him on the sidewalk.” His hands were shaking. “And I didn’t feel bad about it until hours later.”

Law forced himself not to look away. This was painful, but it was important, too. Right now it couldn’t matter that this man was losing custody of his son because of something he had had no control over. Right now it couldn’t matter that he was just as much a victim as Rebecca and Law.

“He made me drive him around for a week.”

Now this was what Law had been waiting for. He leaned forward, uncrossing his arms. “You were with him the entire week?” he asked.

The man turned to look at him and blinked, confused. “Yes?”

“Where did you drive him?”

“All over town, to be honest… I don’t remember a lot of specific places.” He was wringing his hands.

Law groaned. “Did he meet anyone? Someone who gave him pictures?”

The man seemed put off and scared by Law’s questions but Law pushed away the sympathy. “I don’t… Yeah, I think so. Some person, they met every day and traded envelopes.”

So whoever it was hadn’t just been under the influence of Doflamingo’s powers, they had also been getting paid – or received detailed information, whichever way you wanted to take it. Every day, too, which again confirmed the theory that Doflamingo’s powers had a time limit.

“What did they look like?” Law asked.

“How is this relevant to what happened to us?” one of the women piped up.

Law shushed her. “It’s important, believe me. What did the person look like?” he repeated.

The man grimaced. He was about to bolt, Law could tell. Maybe he should buy the poor guy a drink. “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell in this weather and I was never that close, I had to wait in the car.”

“Nothing?” Law asked, already feeling himself deflate. He was so close. He could almost feel the clue in his hands, but he couldn’t see it yet.

“They wore a scarf,” the man said, obviously trying very hard to remember. “Striped. Blue and white.”

Law nodded, matter of fact, even though inside his heartbeat had sped up with anxiety. “Thank you.” It would have to be enough. At least it was something, some clue he could take to comb through the tapes again. It was something.

And then he was out of the door again because this was as much as he could take.

  


  


  


It was still hard, going through hours upon hours of footage and trying to pick out a single person, when the city was full of them. More than a dozen people in each shot and sometimes Law had to pause just to make sure none of them were wearing he mentioned scarf.

It was well past three in the morning and he was on his third coffee when he finally spotted it. He hit the space bar with shaking fingers and it took him three tries to zoom in.

There was the scarf.

He forwarded a second and the person threw back their hood. The picture was grainy but it was enough to make out the general shape of the face of the person – and the color of their hair. The round face and the bleached, almost platinum hair were undeniable.

Law closed his eyes in defeat and pressed his shaking hands to his thighs. Nausea was rolling over him in waves. This had to be a joke. This couldn’t be real.

_This can’t be real_ , he thought and somehow he could hear Doflamingo mock him in the back of his head.

**Oh, but it is.**

The person who had been following Law for weeks, maybe months already, was Bepo.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a much, much longer break than i had planned but school is kicking my _ass_ , i'm really sorry. i have exams like? every week? can't believe i'll have to do this for two years.
> 
> there's some shit about law being creepy in this chapter, but i guess it all explains itself

 

Law didn’t understand where the floor had gone.

One second it had been there, the next it had been yanked out from under his feet and he was falling, falling, falling.

Next thing he knew he was feeling the hardwood of his office under his knees and fingers. He was also dimly aware he was trying to suck in air but not breathing out properly and his head was swimming. His hands raked over the boards and the rug next to his desk.

“Dove Street,” he choked out, trying to conjure up the image of his childhood neighborhood. “Argent Way. Amber Road. Main Street.”

It wasn’t working.

“Dove Street. Argent Way. Amber Road. Main Street.” He tried again, because he had to.

It wasn’t supposed to make everything magically alright. There was no magic, no miracle, no devil fruit that could do that. But it could help him live through it and _breathe_.

“Dove Street. Argent Way. Amber Road. Main Street.”

Finally air was getting to his lungs again and he could feel the oxygen return to his brain and his limbs. His pulse was still way too fast, pulse thrumming in his wrists and ears, but he managed to pull himself up next to his desk. There was nothing he would rather do right now than lie on his back on the steady floor of his apartment, look at the ceiling and count the stains.

Instead he staggered towards the door, his steps becoming firmer by the time he reached it. He needed confirmation. Not for security – there was no security to be found in this revelation – but so his brain would accept this as undeniable reality. So he could take steps to think about what he needed to do now.

He didn’t bother knocking, just shimmied open the lock with a flicker of his powers that he allowed himself.

The flat was silent. Bepo wasn’t there.

Law strode through the sparely furnished living room straight towards the printer that was standing on the floor beneath the table Bepo used as a desk.

His stomach turned again as he bent down and picked up two pictures that were still on top of it – one of him the morning he had come back from Luffy’s place, one with Coby earlier that day. He took a deep breath and ripped them apart. It was only a small satisfaction, but it would have to do for now.

He reminded himself that Bepo wasn’t a bad person. That this wasn’t his fault.

 

 

It was only a matter of time until Bepo would come back and until then Law had to decide on a confrontation strategy. There was a high chance that Bepo would either get frightened or that – god forbid – Doflamingo had implemented a fail-safe command. Law considered everything an option with him.

For a while he wondered if he should just wait in Bepo’s flat but that seemed too intrusive to him – he felt guilty enough already for breaking in, even though he knew that Bepo had been stalking and taking pictures of him for months.

Still, it wasn’t Bepo’s fault.

 

So Law returned to his flat and mulled over what he had learned and what he already knew about Bepo.

He had never looked into his neighbor and friend too much because Law generally didn’t care too much about the people he lived in a house with and Bepo had seemed unassuming enough at first. He had walked right into a neatly lain out trap there.

So he did it now. It was way too late of course, but maybe it would give him some insight, some understanding into why Bepo had done it, what Doflamingo could possibly have on him to make him come to him again and again. Maybe he had flown into Doflamingo’s net by chance, just on his own, but first and foremost Law believed in manipulation.

Bepo had come to the city a year ago to study – according to his Facebook account, which was ridiculously easy to break into. He had dropped out officially before this summer break – which wasn’t on his Facebook account, but information Law pulled from the University’s online registry, something that was less easy to obtain access to.

What had happened in those twelve months? His pictures from the beginning of his freshman year showed a happy young adult, not surrounded by a million friends but a nice roommate and a few faces that kept showing up, again and again. But as time went on his entries on his profile became less frequent and they stopped entirely about four months ago. Had that been when Doflamingo had gotten to him? Or had it happened earlier? Had his anxiety become too much for him or had Doflamingo started influencing him as early as half a year ago?

Law’s fingers and throat itched for what was left of his whiskey but he needed his head to be clear.

 

 

Ultimately he decided against an immediate confrontation. If he figured out when Bepo met up with Doflamingo, he would lead Law right to him. It would take a few days to get accustomed with Bepo’s routine, since Law had so far assumed he left his flat only on Thursdays, when he met his therapist.

But when Law heard him leave the next morning he realized that this wasn’t the first time he had heard Bepo walk down the hall at 9:30am sharp. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

He monitored Bepo’s behavior for another three days anyway, just to be sure.

For someone who could barely go grocery shopping alone, leaving the house at the same time every day for something that wasn’t his therapist’s office was suspicious.

 

The morning of the fourth day he put on a jacket he had never worn before – some jeans monstrosity that Cora had given him a few years ago – and followed Bepo. He pulled up the hood on the sweater he was wearing beneath the jacket and wore oversized sunglasses. The trick was to look different from his usual self but to still blend in, hence the jacket. He didn’t want to attract any attention, especially not Bepo’s. Or Doflamingo’s.

He made sure that he had one of the syringes with sufentanil with him and then walked after Bepo at a safe distance.

They didn’t walk far.

There was a park a few blocks away, not too full already at this hour – mostly there were mothers with their young children, and elderly people. Law weaved between them so he wouldn’t lose Bepo and stopped behind a hedge when he saw him steer towards a table that was half-hidden behind a baby carriage.

Bepo sat down, mother and child moved on and the rest of the table came into view.

The world seemed to be closing in on Law. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the air and the clouds were suddenly darker than before.

There he sat, just as tall as the last time Law had seen him. And just as terrifying.

Donquixote Doflamingo.

Law couldn’t take it – he was feeling himself lose it just from seeing him for a moment. He turned around, the branches of the hedge digging into his back through the fabric of his jacket. He pushed back his hood as if that would help him breathe.

“Dove Street.”

_Be calm_ , he told himself.

“Argent Way.”

Doflamingo didn’t know he was here.

“Amber Road.”

He was safe.

“Main Street.”

He could walk away at any point.

Law took the syringe out of his pocket and uncapped it, shook the air out. Better safe than sorry.

He forced himself to look. He needed to know what was going on.

Bile rose in him when he realized how close Doflamingo had been to his home every morning – and in plain sight, too. What a cocky, self-assured, disgusting asshole. He still wore the same ridiculous sunglasses, too.

Bepo took an envelope from his satchel and slid it across the table, Doflamingo took it with a dismissive nod and then handed him a smaller but much thicker white envelope. Full of money, no doubt.

Law understood why emailing the pictures was out of the question for Doflamingo, but why Bepo couldn’t just hand him a flash drive was a mystery. Maybe Doflamingo just loved the dramatic flair – or he was too lazy to print them out himself anymore.

Law watched as Bepo anxiously fidgeted while Doflamingo inspected the pictures.

He made a hand-movement that seemed impatient as much as it seemed dismissive and Bepo scampered away.

 

 

 

“I found our stalker,” Law said, half an hour later, back in the safe confines of his apartment, with exhaustion radiating off of his skin and bleeding into his voice. “And I found Doflamingo, too.”

“I’m coming over right now,” Corazón said, traffic audible in the background of the phone call.

“Don’t you have to prepare for your show tomorrow? There’s not even anything to see, you would be wasting your time.” Law said, rubbing his forehead. He had just wanted to tell Corazón, not deal with his concern and mothering.

“This is more important. And I’m bringing pizza.”

Law sighed. “Fine.”

Corazón arrived an hour later with pizza from what had once upon a time been their favorite diner and a six-pack. Beer had stopped being Law’s poison of choice a long time ago – too watery, too weak – but he took it gladly anyway. Mostly because Corazón’s clumsy self was threatening to drop the bottles while trying to shimmy out of his coat.

Law did end up telling him what he had found out about Bepo so far, but in the end Corazón had to concede that there wasn’t much they could do right now until they knew more.

“I’ll have to follow him a couple more times to gain some perspective,” Law said, chewing on his slice of peperoni pizza contemplatively. “I know what’s going on but I don’t know _how_ exactly.”

He caught Corazón smiling and raised an eyebrow, swallowed. “What?”

“You’re a good person,” Corazón said. Law scoffed. “No, hold on, I wasn’t finished. You care about Bepo. You care about Rebecca. You care about what happens to this world.”

Law rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

“You know,” Corazón mused and took a sip of his beer, “I think your problem isn’t that you don’t care enough – it’s that you care too much.”

“Yeah...” Law grimaced. “It’s why I was going to be a doctor.”

“You could still be one, you know?”

Law threw the pizza crust back into the box and Corazón picked it up without hesitation. “I wouldn’t be a very good one.”

He remembered standing in front of Corazón’s freshly re-enforced door with nothing but a suitcase, a box and his shaking hands; wishing he could go back to his dorm room. He hadn’t even talked to his advisor. He had just left.

Corazón had opened the door looking as ragged and exhausted as Law felt. He hadn’t said anything and for a moment they had just stood there, looking at each other.

“I dropped out,” Law had said and Corazón had closed his eyes in defeat.

Two weeks before that, in his clearer moments, he had still had hope he would go back to university eventually. But the memory of blood on his hands had been too fresh then to hold on to that illusion any longer. Everything in the months preceding that and the year after had only shown him that he would never wake up from this nightmare.

They had healed together, at least physically, but while Corazón had gone to therapy dutifully, Law had seen it as more of a hindrance. Why rehash what had happened to him? It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t erase what he had gone through, when that was all he wanted.

He wouldn’t get his old life back.

He’d known that since he was thirteen, but the months with Doflamingo had just driven it home. He had to put his past behind lock and key.

He was never going to truly move on but he also would never be able to go back.

 

Corazón had given him months of freedom and quiet but finally Law had grown tired of the pitying stares and the boredom that haunted him in the moments without crippling fear. And so he had gone out and found himself a job.

He had been fired three weeks later, but at least he had tried.

A string of retail and food service jobs had followed, all of which Law had felt overqualified for. He had been bored out of his mind half the time, and with his tendency to start yelling at customers, he eventually felt like he was being let go more often than he was being hired.

Corazón had sworn that it was because Law was too smart but Law had known it wasn’t that. Sure, he had been bored but he had also flinched at every tall person entering the store – and he wasn’t exactly small himself.

In the end he had realized he needed a more proactive job than what he was doing at the time. Something that would help.

Being a PI wasn’t ideal, but it was all he had.

It was more than he could have hoped for after everything that had happened.

 

An hour after Corazón left – not without giving Law another sad look – there was a knock at his door.

He had wanted to nap and see if he could catch a few hours of undisturbed sleep, since all his hours at night were taken up by obsessing and nightmares recently, but apparently the whole world had decided to conspire against him.

For a moment he contemplated ignoring it, even despite the possibility of it being a new client. With how badly the last one had gone and his recent findings in the Doflamingo case he wasn’t really feeling up to doing actual work. But actual work meant payment and since he had missed out on a good chunk of that with Shalulia he finally did shuffle out of his bedroom and opened the door.

It was Baby – Baby 5? – carrying a plate wrapped in clingfilm.

“Hi,” she smiled.

“What’s this?” Law asked.

“Banana bread! Monet and I have been baking all day and we wanted to give you this. As a thank you, for… you know.”

Law blinked in surprise. “Uh,” he made, caught off guard, “I didn’t really do much.”

She shrugged. “Just take it. Or do you not like banana bread?”

“Not really.” Law stared down at it and took it anyway. Just because he didn’t love it didn’t mean he wouldn’t eat it.

“I’ve never met a man like you,” she said and Law’s gaze snapped back to her.

“What?”

“Well, you’re kind of weird. Like, you come off all mean and brusque but then you go and help out Monet and Bepo and all that and you’re a private investigator, which is kind of cool…” She motioned with her now free hands. “I think you’re nicer than you think.”

Law really didn’t need more people telling him that he was a good person under all the pain.

“I just don’t like interruptions,” Law said, “so I try to make things run as smoothly as possible.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, whatever you say. Enjoy your banana bread. Or don’t, I guess.”

Law watched as she smiled, waved, turned and walked away and he wondered why he hadn’t slammed the door in her face three sentences ago.

 

The banana bread was better than expected.

 

 

 

Law followed Bepo another two times. With the level of mind control that was going on here he doubted that Doflamingo and Bepo met in the same spot every day, so he had to figure out a pattern. Bepo had a phone, but no messages on it pointed to Doflamingo, so they had to be making arrangements some other way.

The first time he lost him and only spotted him again two minutes later, when he was already sitting on a park bench next to Doflamingo. Law cursed his inattentiveness and had to head home without having found out anything new except that the meeting place did indeed change slightly every day.

The next morning he watched Bepo bump into a school kid and saw them exchanging words. Law stopped breathing for a minute. That had to be it!

The kid seemed to want to hurry off, shaking her head a little in confusion, backpack bouncing on her back.

“Sorry,” Law said, stopping in her path. “Can you tell me what you just said to that man?”

The kid blinked up at him.

“Uh,” she made, her pupils wide. Law winced a little. She couldn’t be older than twelve. What a monster Doflamingo was.

That sentence seemed to repeat in his head a lot recently. What a monster.

Sometimes it wasn’t just Doflamingo – sometimes it was himself, too.

“Another man told me to tell him to go to the kiosk at the next corner.”

Law sucked in a breath. “Thank you,” he said. “Did he say anything else?”

She shook her head. “I gotta go to school!”

“Go,” Law said, refraining from touching her. He hoped she would never have to go through this again. He hoped she’d live through the rest of her life without ever meeting a man even a tenth as vile as Doflamingo.

Now he was on the move again, winding through late morning commuters to hurry after Bepo.

There was a way to beat Doflamingo and slowly all the pieces were falling into place.

He was filled with something that felt close to elation, but wasn’t quite there yet. He wasn’t allowed to feel relieved yet. Not by a long shot.

 

 

 

Corazón wasn’t answering his phone. Law figured he was probably still sleeping, since he had had a night shoot for some kind of ad the day before but he needed to talk to him _now_.

Half an hour later he was banging on Corazón’s front door.

“Cora, let me in! I know how he’s doing it!”

It took over five minutes for Corazón to open the door. He looked tired and disgruntled but Law couldn’t be sympathetic right now. Nobody cared about his unhealthy sleeping behavior either.

“Dammit Law I have a guest! Why didn’t you call?” Corazón pushed a hand through his hair.

Law pushed past him. “I did. You didn’t answer.”

He stopped short when he saw Coby sitting at Corazón’s kitchen counter, clutching a mug of coffee and looking like a deer in headlights.

“What’s he doing here?”

Corazón, who had followed him back into the kitchen, sighed and opened the fridge. He took out two beers and shoved one into Law’s hands. “Drinking coffee because giving him wine feels wrong.”

“I’m legal,” Coby said and it sounded like he’d been saying it for an hour already.

“Barely,” Law and Corazón said at the same time.

Law turned back to Corazón. “No, really, what’s he doing here?”

Corazón rolled his eyes. “Therapy session, kind of,” he said and took a swig of his beer.

Law did the same and sighed. He should have expected this. Corazón had always been prone to take in charity cases and strays. Case in point: Law himself.

He regarded Coby with a pointed look but Corazón redirected his attention. “You said you know how he’s doing it. How he’s doing _what_?”

“Meeting up with Bepo,” Law explained, setting his beer bottle aside. “He seems cautious about exposing himself directly – of course, he can’t just stroll up to my house – so he operates by courier. That gives us the advantage.”

“Wait, are we talking about Doflamingo here?” asked Coby as the same time as Corazón said “How is that an advantage? It’s way too uncertain and risky.”

Law’s hand twitched for his beer but he ignored it. “Sure, we can’t scout the location but it’ll mean he’ll expect to be safe,” he said, ignoring Coby completely. He will be exposed, they always meet in public places in the neighborhood.”

Corazón crossed his arms. “So you’re just going to jab a needle into his neck in a public place and stuff him into a van.”

“That’s the gist of it,” Law shrugged. He hadn’t really thought of a better approach yet and he didn’t think he would have to.

“People are going to notice,” Coby butted in.

“Not your business,” Law and Corazón said at the same time. Law grimaced. Talking at the same time as Corazón was getting old fast. Still, Coby seemed to have caught on that fast.

Coby frowned. “Excuse me? It’s very much my business.”

“Just because you’re here doesn’t mean you have to get involved,” Corazón said. “This is something we have to deal with.”

“Listen, I’m a cop. I know how to deal with this,” Coby said. “I can help.”

Corazón and Law shared a look and then Corazón turned to Coby, smiling icily. “I have enough combat and weapons training to deal with my- this thing, believe me.”

“Oh, really? Where did you learn that, acting school?” Coby asked.

Now Law did reach for his beer. This was about to get good.

“No,” Corazón said, “military school.”

Coby gaped at him. Law hid his smug grin behind his bottle.

 “I didn’t know,” Coby mumbled, clearly trying to regain his composure. “Did you serve, too?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s not something I advertise. I think only like four people know, including you,” Corazón said. Law counted them internally. Himself, Sengoku, Doflamingo and now Coby. “I served, kind of. I don’t like talking about it.”

Law could see the question of when and where form on Coby’s lips and then fall back off.

 

The truth was that Corazón had not actually served in the military but in a special ops department. Just once, after he had been out of education for a few years already and had been in the process of setting up his acting career.

The mission had not ended well. It had ended with Doflamingo.

At least Corazón still had his acting.

That was more than Law could say for himself.

 

It didn’t take long for Coby to regain his fighting spirit. “I still have a right to be part of this,” he said. “I want to help.”

“Don’t get entitled now,” Corazón said.

“I have as much right to be here as you two.”

Law and Corazón shared another look but didn’t say anything this time. This was a conversation for another day and it was none of Coby’s business anyway.

“Fine. I’ll get us a van,” Corazón said. “You can come with us, because you do have more experience than us but that doesn’t make you the boss.”

“I’ll keep in contact,” Law said. “So on the day I’ll lead you guys directly to our location. Then we just need to get close enough to drug him.”

Coby made an unsatisfied sound. “That sounds too risky.” Law was about to snap at him but the kid continued. “I could get us one of those tranquilizer guns, so you don’t have to move in until he’s unconscious.”

“That’s actually… not bad,” Law said. “I’ll be there the moment he hits the floor and carry him to the van.”

Coby frowned again. “Seems like an awful lot of attention.”

Law smirked. “I’m a good actor. Not as good as Cora here but decent enough to make people believe I’m going to help the asshole instead of lock him up and kill him.”

“Speaking of locking up,” Corazón said. “What are we going to do with him once we have him? He’s just going to command us to let him go the moment he wakes up and I could do without that, to be honest.”

“We could just keep him drugged,” Law said.

“You’ll need him awake to get him to talk and admit his crimes,” Coby argued.

Law sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

They were silent for a moment until Coby’s face lit up. “Hermetically sealed room!”

Law stared at him. “ _What?_ ”

Corazón had raised both his eyebrows and had paused with his beer halfway to his mouth.

“He controls you by talking to you, right? I mean, I guess it could also be something in the air or a physical power, for all we know, but a hermetically sealed room would take care of all of that. No sound can come out until we set up something and he couldn’t reach us through the glass.”

“Okay, but where would we find one?” Law asked.

Coby grinned. “There’s a defunct one uptown.”

“How do you even _know_ that?” Corazón asked.

“The academy had some weird excursions,” Coby shrugged. Law stared at him. “Okay, one of my friends is the son of a former captain and showed it to me.”

Law put down his bottle on the counter, already zipping up his jacket. “I have to see it.”

“Now?” Coby asked, incredulous. Corazón only sighed and put down his beer, too.

“Don’t argue with him,” he said. “Come on.”

 

 

Corazón didn’t drive himself often, he claimed the city was too crowded to do with stress-free. Sometimes Law thought he didn’t feel safe behind the wheel, but he didn’t say anything about it either.

“You’re probably the most defensive driver I’ve ever been in a car with,” Coby said after a few minutes.

Corazón raised an eyebrow at him. “I can drive reckless, buddy.”

“I just mean that I hope you won’t be driving like this when you’re driving our getaway car.”

Law snorted. “Believe me, give him a couple minutes to get used to it and an empty street and he’ll drive like an actual person again. And you forget: he’s an actor. If you want him to be a getaway car driver, he will be.”

“Fair point,” Coby said and Corazón laughed.

Law thought that he sounded much too carefree for their situation. But maybe he was just acting.

 

 

Coby led them to an old industrial lot that had been abandoned for what looked like a hundred years. There was two ten-story office and multi-purpose buildings and they headed towards the left one after exiting the car.

“Not a very creative hiding place for a hermetically sealed room,” Law said, his hands shoved into his pockets. The place made him feel uneasy.

Coby turned towards him and clicked his tongue. “Would you rather it was in a corrupt politician’s business building hidden behind a fake wall?”

“No?” Sometimes Law really didn’t understand the kid.

“That’s right,” Coby said. “Nobody comes looking in here and if they do, it’s to do drugs or get drunk, not stash kidnapping victims.”

“He’s not a victim,” Corazón and Law said at the same time.

“Stop that!” Law pointed at Corazón.

“Talking at the same time? I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“It’s creepy anyway,” Law said.

Coby ignored them and pushed through the door ahead of them.

“I don’t think _you_ can tell me what’s creepy and what isn’t,” Corazón said.

“Yeah, whatever, Mr. Panic Room,” Law mumbled and let the door fall shut behind them.

“That’s for protection! Meanwhile you’re dark and creepy just for the hell of it.”

“Would you stop arguing?” Coby asked.

“We’re just staving off frustration,” Corazón said sweetly.

They found themselves in a dark hallway.

“Now _that’s_ creepy,” Law said. It was reminiscent of all the mental asylum horror movies and games that Law frowned at every time he saw a new trailer. No wonder humanity couldn’t get its shit together if it kept vilifying mentally ill people. He turned away from the picture of the long hallway that made every word echo back at him and looked at Coby. “Where’s the room?”

“Ninth floor,” Coby said, already setting off down the hallway.

“Cool,” Law mumbled. “Does this place have an elevator?”

“Sure,” Coby shrugged, “but the electricity has been shut off for years.”

“Of course.” Law hunched his shoulders and followed Coby down the corridor.

Corazón bumped his shoulder against Law’s. “Hey, at least you’ll get a good workout.”

“Hilarious,” Law mumbled.

He had nothing against taking the stairs in general but he’d rather not spend any more time in eerily dark and quiet hallways and rooms. The stairs couldn’t be much better than this.

 

They were not.

“I’ll get us a few generators for when we have Doflamingo here,” Coby said as they climbed. “Of course we can do it without them but I’m pretty sure looking at him with only flashlights is going to make everything a lot harder. And we wouldn’t be able to talk to him without a sound system.”

“That sounds much preferable,” Law said, trudging up the stairs with his hands deeply buried in his pockets, one fist closed around the syringe of Sufentanil out of habit. “Electricity is a big plus.”

“I don’t really want to talk to him,” Corazón mumbled. He sounded smaller than usual, especially for being in a place that amplified voices so much. Law looked at him for a second and his grip around the syringe tightened.

“I know,” he said. “You don’t have to.”

Corazón pursed his lips and a crease appeared between his eyes, just barely visible in the dim light. “Are you kidding me? _You_ shouldn’t have to talk to him or look at him or come into contact with him ever again but you’re here, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but-“ Law started to argue but Corazón gripped his arm, getting close enough to whisper to him so Coby wouldn’t hear them.

“I had to spend my childhood with him but I was actively working against him before you even knew him. You weren’t supposed to ever meet him. This wasn’t supposed to happen to you and I’m sorry.”

Law groaned and shook of Corazón’s hand. “It was my own fault, really. And it’s not important right now.” Corazón looked like he wanted to something else but Law just followed Coby up the stairs. “Come on, I want to test if this thing is really soundproof.”

The floor they ended up on had a few rooms to either side of the hallway but was shorter than the others, a slightly ajar standing door at the end cutting it short.

“That’s it?” Law asked.

“Well, yeah, it’s in there,” Coby said.

Law felt goosebumps creeping up his arms and he pulled open the door with expectation making his heart beat faster.

The room was too dark to see anything.

“Well, that’s kind of underwhelming,” Corazón said and Law had to stifle a surprised laugh.

Coby raised his flashlight and the light reflected off something, blinding Law for a second before he could actually look at the room.

It didn’t look much different from the other rooms of the building, except the floor was plain concrete. There was a solitary, old table in the middle of the room and behind it was something that looked like like a big glass box.

The hermetically sealed chamber.

“Soundprood and bulletproof,” Coby said, almost sounding proud.

“There’s a ventilation system that’s separate to the one from the building itself so if whatever he does involves air, he won’t be able to do it.”

“Looks like just the perfect prison cell,” Law said and he couldn’t quite keep the glee out of his voice as he imagined locking Doflamingo up in it. He walked along the front of the chamber once and took in the door on the right. It had a seal that had to be turned to open and close it.

Coby had followed him and opened the seal. They stepped into it and Law rapped on the glass wall, then slightly kicked the metal bench at the far side of the cell. “Seems fine.”

He waited for Coby to pass him before he turned around, quickly exited and closed the door.

When he got to the front of the cell, Coby was staring at him in disbelief and confusion.

“You’re kind of stupid, you know that?” Law asked and he could see the confusion on Coby’s face turn into horror.

Coby shouted something, probably a plea, but the soundproof glass didn’t let his words through.

“Even for a cop.” Law grinned.

“Law,” Corazón said, sounding disapproving. “He can’t hear you.”

“Yeah, I know. But come on, I had to test it somehow.”

“You could have at least asked,” Corazón mumbled and turned to Coby, smiling and showing him a thumbs-up. Law was sure that he would have volunteered to be the test subject for the room, but where would the fun have been in that? Also it wouldn’t have seemed right to him to put Corazón in there.

Coby frowned and then he watched as Corazón turned and walked over to the door to open it again. Law was sure that if he had been less well-mannered, he would’ve shown him the middle finger.

Coby exited the room with his face turning pink. “Thanks for that.”

Law shrugged. “Now we know it works.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’ll be even meaner to him. And Corazón won’t let him out, that’s for sure.”

Corazón pushed him towards the exit. “I’m sorry about him,” he said to Coby.

Law rolled his eyes and pushed open the door to the corridor. “Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried really hard to finish this before christmas so i'm glad i managed to at least do that :')  
> had to distract myself from the news about carrie fisher so i finished editing just now
> 
> happy and safe holidays, friends!

 

 

Law didn’t like remembering the time immediately after Doflamingo.

Most of his memories in general were painfully and of course those were the most pointed and most vivid ones.

There were three reasons he had decided to become a doctor. One of them was that his parents had been surgeons. The second was that he hadn’t been able to save them. And the third was a memory he looked back on with a kind of morbid fondness.

It was the only one he liked remembering.

It had been shortly after he had learned how to drive; he had been barely seventeen and had just been driving around aimlessly because sometimes being in the same house as Sengoku was infuriating – especially when Corazón wasn’t there.

It had been just after dusk, when the darkness wasn’t as thick yet, and he had turned a corner to see a car against a tree.

He had hit the brakes, his own car skidding on the asphalt, and had come to a stop a few meters behind the crash-site. He had jumped out of his car to double back to the wreck. It hadn’t looked too bad, the driver had definitely braked before hitting the tree; the front of the car had been dented noticeably but it hadn’t looked too horrible.

There had been a young woman in the car, maybe a few years older than Law himself.

Law had seen a few dead bodies in his life already and he had immediately known that she wasn’t going to be one of them. She had had a head wound and seemed stunned – not fully conscious, but her eyes had been open and she had been breathing shallowly.

Law had wrenched open the door to her car.

“Hello,” he had said. “Can you hear me?”

It had taken her a while to answer. Finally: “Uh, yes.”

Law had let out a relieved sigh. “Okay, good. I’m Law, I’m going to help you out of here. Can you tell me your name?”

“Eliza.”

“Nice to meet you, Eliza. Can you lean back for me?”

She groaned, responding only slowly but finally she took her head off the steering wheel and slowly straightened up.

“Thank you,” Law said. “Does your neck hurt?”

“Kinda,” she mumbled.

He had belatedly remembered that his phone was in his pocket and had started digging for it.

While he had called an ambulance he had kept an eye on Eliza. She had seemed to be coming to a little more and had reached for her seatbelt. Law had put a hand on her arm and shaken his head. She should wait for actually qualified emergency personnel to arrive bevor she moved any more.

Finally he had gotten off the phone with the emergency department again.

“Help’s going to be here soon, okay? You’re going to be just fine.”

She had put her head against the headrest and grimaced. “Okay.”

“Tell me about yourself,” Law had said. He had thought it best to keep her conscious in case she had internal injuries or head trauma.

She had cracked her eyes open again to look at him. “How old are you?”

Law had smiled. “I asked first. But I’m seventeen, if you really have to know.”

“You’re a very responsible seventeen-year-old,” she had mumbled.

“How old are you?” Law had asked.

It had taken her a moment to remember her age but finally she had answered. “Twenty-two. I’m gonna be a teacher.”

“That’s great!” Law had said, not even faking his enthusiasm. He didn’t generally like teachers, the whole school system seemed fucked, but this woman seemed like the kind of person who cared for children and wanted to make good changes.

“Have you finished high-school yet?” she had asked.

“Not yet. Next summer.”

“Any plans for what you’re going to do after that?”

He had breathed out slowly. He had only told Corazón until then. “I’m going to study medicine.” The words had still felt a little surreal out of his mouth. He was going to be a doctor, like his parents. He was going to do some good in the world.

“Oh, that’s great,” she had said. “You can put me on your application.”

Law had laughed. “I already applied to a few places, but thank you. If they need a reference I’ll give them your number.”

He had kept her company like that, huddling next to the open car door to keep the cold out but also keep Eliza entertained and awake.

  
  


After another few minutes he had heard sirens approaching.

“Here they come.”

He had watched the blue lights round the same turn he had earlier and come to a halt next to his car. Belatedly he had realized that he should have walked up to the street to make sure they didn’t miss them.

“I’ll be right back,” he told Eliza.

He had gone closer to the street to meet the paramedics. Thankfully they had spotted him immediately and followed him to Eliza.

He had watched them as they examined her and then got a neck brace for her. Finally they had put her on a stretcher.

He had watched them put her in the ambulance, too. There had been a weird feeling in his gut, like he had done something right but too early, too out of order.

“You saved my life,” she had said and smiled.

“You weren’t going to die,” Law had said. “But I’m glad I stopped, anyway.”

“Me too.”

They had smiled at each other.

  
  


One of the paramedics had reached out to close the door.

“You’re going to make a great doctor one day,” she had said.

Law had watched the backlights of the ambulance as it drove away. He had stood there, frozen in place, for at least another five minutes.

He had never seen her again but her words had stayed with him.

  
  


  
  


Now it felt surreal to him that he had entered university on a fast tracked education career just a few months after that, only to drop out again three years down the road.

This was his reality now.

His downfall had started long before Doflamingo had come into his life, but at least he had still had hope back then.

Now he was just empty.

  
  


  
  


  
  


He was brooding over a haphazard plan of their upcoming mission, which didn’t include much, since he didn’t even know where Bepo and Doflamingo were going to meet. Mostly he just kept looking at his newspaper articles and wondering why he hadn’t finished the job when he had had the chance to so many months ago.

His phone rang and he sighed and reached out for it. Maybe a distraction would help.

It was the prison.

He got up to wander towards the kitchen and pressed the phone to his ear. “Rebecca?”

“Hey, can you come see me tomorrow?”

Law frowned. It was odd for her to ask to meet him. They hadn’t had any contact in a while and he had figured that she was just going to stick with Tsuru. He was sure that she still blamed him for what had happened.

“Sure,” he said anyway, because he _did_ feel guilty. “What’s this about?”

“I just wanna talk,” she said but Law could sense the insincerity from a mile away. “It gets lonely in here.”

“Okay,” he mumbled and opened his fridge to look for food that wasn’t there.

There were a few seconds of silence where Rebecca was waiting for him to say something else and he was waiting for her to come forward with the real reason for her call. He had never been a great conversationalist and if she had been good at socializing once, Doflamingo had robbed her of that.

She broke first.

“Can you bring some money, too? I need a hundred bucks.”

He sighed and closed his fridge without taking anything out. There it was; to be honest he had expected this to come at some point. Prison made criminals even out of the innocent.

“What for?” he asked.

“Just some stuff that I need,” she said and Law rolled his eyes. Sure.

“Can’t you just ask Tsuru to put more into your commissary account? Should I do it?” he asked.

“I need it in cash.”

So it was definitely nothing legal.

For a moment he thought about arguing but he had other things to worry about. So he just sighed and went for the middle ground. “I’ll give you the money but you can’t get into trouble, okay? I’m trying to get you out of there, I swear.”

“And I’m just trying to survive,” she said cryptically. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hung up.

  
  


  
  


Of course he went to see Rebecca the next day. How could he not?

He felt worse about giving the money to her now than he had when they had spoken on the phone. Her behavior worried him. He was afraid she was going to go down the same path he had, and he didn’t want that for her. She had suffered enough and he was doing his best to make it at least a little better, but she would have to work with him for that.

He walked into the visitor area with what felt like the weight of an entire ten-story brick building on his shoulders. It only got heavier when he saw Rebecca’s exhausted, worn out face. Doflamingo had done this to her. _He_ had done this to her.

“Did you bring the money?”

With a sigh he raked a hand across his face, wanting nothing more to dig his nails in, and regarded Rebecca with a tired look. He hadn’t even sat down yet.

“What do you need it for?”

“I just need it,” Rebecca said.

Law grit his teeth. “Rebecca, whatever you’re trying to do, it isn’t worth it. If you’re in trouble, there’s legal channels for that…”

“Do you think I don’t _know_ that?” she asked. “I’m asking you and not my fucking lawyer for a reason. Do you have the money or not?”

“Hey, Becks!” Law heard a voice from behind and turned around to see a burly woman standing in front of the entrance to the visitor’s room. “You coming, or what?”

Law turned back to Rebecca and looked at her pointedly.

“In a minute!” She looked at Law and rolled her eyes. “It’s just cards,” she said in a dismissive tone but he could see the fear in her eyes.

He wanted to ask her again what was going on but he knew he wasn’t going to give him a straight answer and he’d rather have her only talk to him cryptically, no matter how frustrating it was, than not talk to him at all.

“Please.”

He sighed again and pulled two bills out of his pocket, slipping them to her under the guise of a handshake.

“Be careful.”

She scoffed and got up. “Thanks.”

He watched her go and wondered if he was failing worse in his efforts to save her than he had previously thought.

  
  


  
  


On the way home he felt more exhausted than he had in while – and that was saying something. Sure, he had a purpose now, but he was working himself into the ground trying to get to his goal and there were more players in the game by now than he had initially assumed. He wasn’t equipped to deal with this.

He just had to hope that he would get through this somehow – the next few days were critical.

  
  


  
  


He found Bepo in the elevator.

He had just come through the main entrance and had felt too tired to take the stairs, so he had waited for the elevator. The door’s opened and there he was, shaking on the floor.

Law swore and his first instinct wasn’t to balk, like it usually was – like it always was now – but to step closer.

“Bepo,” he said, carefully kneeling down next to him. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Bepo kept trembling but also shook his head vehemently before sticking it between his knees, which Law took as a response – albeit a paradox one.

He heard the main door behind him open but didn’t turn to look who it was.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” Law asked.

Bepo didn’t answer, so Law settled down next to him with a sigh. This also gave him a view of the entrance, where Monet had just come in. Her gaze jumped from him to Bepo and she almost dropped her shopping bags. Law held up a hand and shook his head.

He sat there for a minute until Bepo’s trembling receded a little and Monet started coming closer silently.

“Bepo?” Law tried again. “Do you want to go home?”

Bepo’s reply was almost inaudible. “Yes.”

“Alright,” Law sat up on his haunches so he could reach up and press the button for their floor. He nodded at Monet and she stepped into the elevator.

“Hey Bepo.”

He only looked up for a moment and then hid his face again but Law took it as progress.

The doors closed and the elevator began its slow ascend.

“Did something happen?” Monet asked.

Bepo didn’t say anything until they reached their floor.

“I’m just… not good enough,” he mumbled as they shuffled out of the elevator and Law’s heart turned cold. Bepo didn’t deserve this. Law had carefully looped an arm around him because Bepo didn’t look like he could support himself and he hadn’t protested. “I can’t. I can’t do it anymore.”

Monet and Law shared a look. “Not good enough for what?” Monet continued asking while they slowly walked towards Bepo’s flat.

“Everything,” Bepo groaned. “I should... I should never have come here. I should have stayed home. At home, where it's safe.”

They had reached his door. Law slightly tapped Bepo’s side. “Is your key in your pocket?” He didn’t really want to leave him alone with only Monet just to go into his own flat and get the spare key right now.

“Yeah.”

Law waited a second but there was no other reply so he went for the right jacket pocket first, carefully patting the fabric. He was right, thankfully. He got the key out of Bepo’s pocket and unlocked the door. “In you go,” he said softly and guided Bepo through the entrance. “Come on.”

“How do we always end up like this?” Monet asked with an obvious joking tone to her voice, but Law shot her a nasty look anyways. This was exactly the opposite of what they needed right now.

“I can take it from here,” he said. “Go home, alright?”

She looked a little hurt but nodded. “Feel better,” she told Bepo and slightly patted his shoulder before turning back towards the stairs.

Law sighed and kicked the door closed behind her before slowly guiding Bepo to his bedroom. “Let’s get you in bed.”

He sat Bepo down on his bed and hoped that Monet would stay outside.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked while he unlaced Bepo’s boots.

Bepo made a noncommittal noise.

“Okay.” Law pulled off his boots. “You just go to sleep, alright?”

“I don’t want to,” Bepo mumbled.

Law sighed. “Do you know what you want?”

“Nothing,” Bepo said.

With another sigh Law sat next to Bepo. “I know, but believe me, the void cares about you, too.”

That made the corners of Bepo’s mouth quirk up. “Ha…”

And this was why Law would make a bad doctor after all. Terrible bedside manners and no filter. But if it helped it couldn’t be so bad – and the joke hadn’t even been that dark. He himself had reached for the dark, self-deprecating side of humor too many times when things got bad.

“Are you sure sleep would be so bad?”

Now Bepo actually looked at him for a moment, and then shrugged. “Mhm.”

“Come on, lie down. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

Law wanted to promise him that so badly, but the lie would have felt so white hot coming over his lips it might burn them both for good.

“Okay…” Bepo shuffled down into a lying position closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to stay?” Law asked.

“You don’t have to nap with me,” Bepo mumbled. “I’ll… be fine now.”

He most certainly wasn’t going to be fine, but at least he would be okay for the moment, Law thought. He sighed inaudibly and had to close his own eyes for a second before he got up from the bed.

“Okay,” he said, hesitating a moment before running his hand over Bepo’s arm once. “Call me whenever, okay?”

He knew Bepo wouldn’t but still, the offer was there, and he meant it. Somehow Bepo had become important to him.

  
  


There was no way Bepo was doing this out of his free will. He wasn’t at fault here. And whatever Doflamingo was doing to him, it wasn’t helping – it was actively making him worse.

  
  


So now there was another person he had to get out of this mess. Law had to help him.

  
  


  
  


He called Corazón immediately and didn’t even let him get a word in when he picked up.

“We need to do it as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, uh… okay,” Corazón said, sounding confused. “I have a van, but are you sure you’re not rushing into this?”

Law pinched the bridge of his nose. “What’s there to rush? We can’t plan much anyway. Does Coby have the tranquilizer gun?”

“Yes!” Coby chimed in.

Law pulled his phone from his ear and stared at the screen for a second to make sure that he had called Corazón instead of Coby.

“Uh, what the fuck?”

“I have a generator for the room, too, but another day to install it would be ideal.”

“Why are you two together _again_?”

“He’s very persistent,” Corazón said. “I don’t think he has any friends. Or he doesn’t trust me with the van, I’m not sure yet.” It sounded like there was more to the story, but Law wasn’t going to ask about it while Coby was right there.

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. “So, we don’t have another day, really. Get everything ready, we move in tomorrow morning.”

Corazón sighed audibly. “Okay. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Coby started to complain but Law only heard the beginning of it before he ended the call again.

They were really going to do this.

  
  


He stretched out on his bed fully clothed and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t going to sleep tonight and the minute Bepo left his safe apartment for the company of Doflamingo he would be there.

It was time to end this.

  
  


  
  


It was eight in the morning and he was about to face his biggest fear. He sat on his desk, his hands tingling, his breath feeling too loud in the silence of his office as he was waiting for the sound of Bepo’s door opening down the hall. For once he was glad for the thin walls.

When he heard the familiar click he slid off his desk and went out into the hall where Bepo was waiting for the elevator.

They rode down in tense silence and Law’s gaze kept flickering to the kid, wondering if he would still be alive at the end of the day, wondering if he would hate him or thank him. He really hoped it would be the latter.

Law stopped Bepo for a moment when they got to the ground floor and he was about to exit the building.

“Hey, hang in there, alright?”

He could have just let him walk out there alone, like it was any other day. But he just hadn’t been able to. Bepo needed to know that he wasn’t alone and Law needed him to know that he _cared_ going into this day.

Bepo blinked at him, confused, a little taken aback. “Yeah uh… you too.”

Law gave a crooked, forced smile, shoved his hands into his pockets and pushed the front door open with his shoulder.

He pretended to walk the other way than Bepo, but stopped after a couple meters and turned, watching Bepo’s retreating back. Then he sighed, straightened his shoulders and walked after him.

This time they were headed in the direction of a different park; a couple blocks away.

Law fumbled in his pocket and got out his phone to call Corazón.

“Hey, where are you?” he asked, jogging across an intersection so he wouldn’t lose Bepo.

“About a block away from your flat. Do you know where you’re headed?”

“Yeah, Gold Smith Park. I’ll meet you there.”

He heard the engine rev before the line cut off.

  
  


Three minutes later the van pulled up next to the newspaper stand in front of him and Law, who had been watching Bepo idle around the square, climbed into the back.

“I don’t think he’s set up the meet yet,” he said instead of a greeting. “But we have like five minutes, tops.”

“He’s always prepared,” Corazón mumbled in a grave voice and handed Law an earpiece. “Here, conference call.”

Law attached it to his ear.

“Can you hear me?” Coby asked, fiddling with his own earpiece and the phone in his hand.

“Tragically, yes,” Law mumbled and Corazón reached back to pinch his arm but Law moved away to work on the Sufentanil capsules instead.

“Alright, do we all know our jobs?”

“I get as close to the meeting place as I can with the van,” Corazón said.

“I wait and take out Doflamingo if I have a clear shot,” Coby said.

“Same for me, but my priority is to grab him and dump him into the van. And then you,” Law pointed at Corazón, “need to haul ass to the sealed room as quickly as possible.”

Corazón grinned. “On it.”

Law sighed and handed Coby the last dart for the tranquilizer gun. “Alright, let’s move then.”

He and Coby got out of the van while Corazón started the engine again.

The walked around the car and Law’s eyes immediately found Bepo again.

“If Doflamingo gets me…” He trailed off.

Coby nodded, seriously. “I’ll take you out.”

“With the dart gun, I hope.”

“I wasn’t going to shoot you in the head with my registered gun.”

“Oh, good.” Law pulled up his hood. It was go time.

He left Coby sitting on a park bench while Law walked into the park square just as a woman walked up to Bepo.

“Here we go,” he mumbled. “Is everyone in position?”

“Ready,” Coby said.

“Ready,” Corazón echoed.

He watched Bepo and the woman exchange words and then part ways again, with Bepo heading north. Law followed him.

“He’s heading north,” he said. “Do you still see him?”

“Yeah,” Coby said. “I’m right behind you.”

They crossed the park like that, Law following Bepo in a decent distance, Coby on a path parallel to them. Finally they got to the edge of the park.

“We’re exiting the park at the North end, Gold Square and West Peak.”

Law stopped at the park exit as Bepo walked up to the street to wait for the light to turn green. As the traffic thinned, Law saw a familiar figure sitting on a chair on the sidewalk on the other side.

It took him a moment to remember how to speak.

“Café on the other side of the street.”

This was it.

“I see him,” Coby said.

“I’ll park at the corner,” Corazón said and Law could hear the engine of the van over the line, “half a block from there.”

Law watched as Bepo and Doflamingo exchanged envelopes, then Corazón in the van passed right in front of him. For a moment Law had to close his eyes. He knew Doflamingo hadn’t seen him and Corazón hadn’t even glanced in his direction, but still it was so close. Too close.

He opened his eyes again and threw a glance at Coby who had crossed the street a hundred meters down and was now approaching Doflamingo and Bepo from the opposite corner.

A car backfired behind him.

Law flinched.

As did Bepo and Doflamingo.

“Shit,” Law hissed as they turned their heads to look into Coby’s direction. “Turn back!”

“I’m almost there,” Coby said, still approaching steadily. “I can take the shot.”

“He’s looking right at you!”

“He’s looking in my _direction_.”

Law didn’t know how Coby could stay so calm. Especially now, when before he had shown to be anxious – but maybe his training had paid off, and Law’s shaking hands and fast-beating heart were once again evidence of his weakness and his trauma.

He bit his lip and took a step forward.

“Fuck.”

As he watched Coby approach and raise the dart gun in the brown paper bag he was carrying, Law knew what he had to do.

Law took another two steps forward and threw his arms up over his head, waving frantically.

“Hey, _asshole_!”

It wasn’t the revenge he had imagined, but he had been planning on throwing insults at him anyway, so why not do it early. Law wanted Doflamino to see his face and know was doing him in the moment it happened.

Doflamingo turned his head and stared right at Law, his eyes widening.

Coby took the shot.

Law watched as the dart coated with Sufentanil embedded itself in Doflamingo’s neck.

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> boy, where do i start with the warnings for this chapter? there's a whole bunch of violence, hints of torture, discussion of medication/drugs, emetophobia (again), some suicidal ideation... just, a bit of mayhem.

 

Law didn’t expect everything to be so easy.

But in retrospect, getting Doflamingo’s lifeless form from the cafe to the van was much easier than he had anticipated. Too easy.

He could still feel the man’s eyes on him but he couldn’t think about that right now.

Bepo stared at him in horror from where he had jumped up, off of his chair next to Doflamingo. “I’m sorry,” he said. Then he bolted, predictably. Law let him go.

“I’m gonna call an ambulance,” someone said but Law shook his head.

“No, I gotta get him to a hospital. He’s my brother.” The words felt like bile leaving his mouth. He had practiced them earlier in the mirror because he had known he would have to have an excuse for picking up an unconscious man on the street – and he had known he would have to get the words out.

He saw two men exit the café a couple meters away from him, striding towards him and he bent down over Doflamingo to mask his movements. Then he flicked his wrist, creating an area for his _Room_ that was small enough not to be seen, and at the same time cut off the men’s legs and shoved two tables in their way.

Bodyguards. Of course.

Doflamingo was filled with delusions of grandeur, but he was also paranoid.

Law hoisted him up on his shoulders with a noise of disgust.

“Cora, I’m coming your way.”

“Hurry,” Corazón hissed.

“There’s two guys coming after me.”

“What guys?” Coby asked, coming up next to him. Law didn’t answer.

They reached the van and Coby opened the door. Law dumped Doflamingo inside and climbed in after him, even though everything in him screamed not to.

“Go!” he told Corazón as Coby shut the door behind him and climbed onto the passenger seat.

Corazón hit the gas.

  


As they pulled away from the scene of their perfect crime, Law felt something that came close to elation.

They had pulled off the first part.

He couldn’t remember if he had reconnected the bodyguard’s feet to their legs but as he saw them running after the van he realized he must have.

Good. Leave no trace.

  


“We did it,” Corazón said as they passed a corner.

“We’re not out of the woods yet.”

  


  


It didn’t take them very long to get to the building with the sealed room. Corazón broke a few speed limits on the way, but the plates on the van were fake for a reason.

Law spent the entire ride staring at Doflamingo’s face and wishing he could kill him, right then and there, but Corazón had reminded him once again that they needed him alive.

So instead Law had punched Doflamingo in the jaw, because he could at least do that. The satisfaction wore off quickly and the pit in his stomach returned.

He wouldn’t be satisfied until Rebecca was free and Doflamingo was dead. Other people would have wanted him to go to prison but Law knew that even with a gag, even with every special safety precaution, he would be able to manipulate his way out of it.

  


They pulled into the graveled way in front of the building and came to a stop.

“Let’s get him inside,” Coby said, his hand already on the door handle.

“Yeah,” Law said and pulled at Doflamingo’s jacket to get him upright. Something tumbled out of the inner pocket. Law stared at it in horror.

“Fuck! He’s wearing a tracker.”

“ _What_?”

Law had barely picked the small device up when he heard a vehicle approaching behind them.

“Get us out of here!” he screamed at Corazón.

It was too late. As Corazón fumbled with the gears, the driver’s side window exploded into a rain of glass shards and a hand pushed a baton with a taser at the end through it, hitting Corazón square in the chest. He screamed.

“No!” Law was on his feet but still crouching, the enclosed space of the van too small for him to do anything. He couldn’t help them.

Coby couldn’t do anything to help, either. His door was wrenched open by another man and Coby kicked him away before being punched in the stomach himself.

A third and fourth opened the doors to the back.

Law was ready for them.

He kicked the first one in the knees, making him cry out and stumble backwards, then he created a _R_ _oom_ and cut the second one’s hands off.

It was the best he could do without a real blade.

It would have to do.

  


The guy who had taken Corazón out took the place of the man with the blown out knee cap and Law, still focused on the other one, was caught by surprise as he was dragged out of the back of the van by his ankles.

Law cut off that one’s hands, too, landing on the ground hard.

He groaned and pushed himself up, saw Coby being held in a choke hold no two meters away.

A second car stopped next to them. Now there were even more of them.

He hadn’t prepared for this.

He took the baton out of one of the severed hands and jabbed it into the throat of one of the new attackers.

“You’re being controlled!”

He knew it wasn’t going to do anything.

They kept coming in, and he couldn’t see Corazón, and his _Room_ collapsed in on itself as another man tackled him. The hands shot back to their rightful owners.

He created a new one, because he had to. Because it was the only way he could fight back.

“He’s a freak! He won’t go down,” another guy said. Law grinned and cut his hands off, too. He would do it again and again.

They kept hitting him and his powers kept evading him again and again because he wasn’t prepared for this. Because he was weak.

There were too many of them.

Law was on the ground, Corazón was either dead and passed out – god how he hoped it was the latter – and Coby was being held down by two guys.

There were four of them on Law and he had lost count how many others had arrived by now. A dozen maybe?

He realized that two of them were back at the van, hoisting up Doflamingo. Law struggled against his captors, but there was nothing he could do. They were taking Doflamingo back.

He created another _Room_ but his power fizzled out before it even finished forming.

He cursed himself as he lay on the gravel. For not thinking about the possibility of a tracker, for not having a real weapon, for not _being_ a real weapon.

One of the guys holding Coby let go and ran to the car and Coby flipped over, kicking the second one in the throat and sending him flying. He was on him in seconds. “You’re not getting away.”

The engine of one of the cars revved behind them and Law turned just in time to see them close the door behind the still unconscious Doflamingo and drive off.

They were getting away. _He_ was getting away.

Then one of the guys holding him down gave him a last fist to the head before they were gone, too.

Law groaned and let out a string of curses because that was the only thing he could still do. His arms and legs were shaking too much to get him to his feet.

He heard the second car drive away but he couldn’t look.

Instead he just lay there, his cheek on the gravel, trying not to throw up.

They had been so close.

He heard the sound of ziplocks being pulled shut and finally pushed himself into a kneeling position. Coby was binding the last guy’s hands behind his back.

“Got one,” he said grimly.

It didn’t matter to Law.

They had failed.

  


He stumbled to his feed and took one cautious step towards the driver’s side of the van. Then another.

“Cora…,” he mumbled.

Coby was already there.

“He’s fine. Just knocked out.”

“That’s too much already,” Law grit out and he finally made it to his brother, too.

Coby was right, but that didn’t make Law feel any better.

He sighed and opened the door, broken glass from the window landing on his legs and then the ground.

“Come on.” He took Corazón’s arm and half-carried, half-dragged him over to the loading bay of the building.

  


  


It thankfully didn’t take very long for Corazón to wake up.

Law sat next to him as he came to and oriented himself, and then groaned and held his head.

 _Me too_ , Law thought, but didn’t say. Instead… “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got electrocuted,” Corazón said.

“You’re so dramatic,” Law said and handed him a cigarette. Neither of them were supposed to smoke but there was no point in keeping up with healthy habits anymore. “You just got tasered a little and knocked out.”

He didn’t mention how terrified he had been.

“He got away, huh?” Corazón asked after lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag.

“Hmm...”

He blew the smoke towards the sky. “Fuck, I’m useless. One hit and I’m out. I didn’t help at all...”

“Don’t do that,” Law said.

“Do what?”

“Blaming yourself. Because I can’t comfort you right now. We fucked it up.”

Corazón was silent for a minute. “We really did,” he then mumbled.

  


Coby walked over to them.

“He’s coming to,” he said and motioned at the bodyguard he had propped up against the van.

“Great,” Law said. “That’s gonna benefit us _so much_.”

Coby rolled his eyes and turned around to walk back to the guy.

“Knock it off.” Corazón slapped his arm with his right hand, narrowly avoiding burning a hole into his jacket with the cigarette.

Law scoffed but didn’t argue otherwise. Instead he slid off the loading bay and stretched out his hand to help Corazón off the block of concrete, too. He took it but then threw away the cigarette butt and walked ahead without a word. Law sighed and followed.

  


Coby was already kneeling in front of the bodyguard.

He had a knife pointed at him and Law wished that he had had one of those earlier, because he already knew he could quite literally cut himself out of any situation. But it was too late now.

“Now _you’re_ going to tell us where they took Doflamingo,” Coby said. Then he wavered for a moment before adding, “or...”, but he still seemed unsure how to continue.

Corazón groaned impatiently. “Give me that,” he said and took the knife from him.

He crouched down in front of the guy.

“You have a pain center right here,” he said and touched the knife to a point right below the man’s kneecap. “So if you don’t want to be in excruciating pain, you better tell us. Right. Now.”

“We know you weren’t in control. We also know he might have ordered you not to tell us,” Law said. He really wished Corazón would lighten up. It wasn’t going to make the situation better. His own anger at the man had almost all but dissipated.

The guy coughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m in total control of myself! I’ll talk!”

Corazón laughed. “I know you will.”

“What do you mean?” Law asked, ignoring Corazón.

The man looked at them with confusion on his face, but his eyes clear as day.

Then it dawned on Law that no, he wasn’t lying to them or under Doflamingo’s control. The spell should have broken, like it had with Bepo earlier. Doflamingo had been knocked out completely.

These guys were doing this out of their free will.

“I work for a firm! I was hired by this paranoid guy with tons of money, that’s all.”

“Fuck!” Law kicked the van’s tire. “He knew I had the drugs. I don’t know how but he _knew_. Of course he’d get backup. Fucking _asshole_!”

“Where did they take him?” Corazón repeated, completely ignoring Law in turn.

The guy shook his head. “I don’t know!”

“I don’t believe that.” The knife ripped the fabric of the man’s pants.

“Come on! The job pays well but not that well! I can tell you everything I know but I don’t know where they took him, we only get information on a need to know basis at the last minute.”

Corazón scoffed. “Are you sure that’s what you wanna say?”

“Stop!” Law dragged him upwards at his arms. “You know he doesn’t know anything. Stop, okay? I’ll find him.” He looked at Coby. “Get him out of here.”

Coby nodded and took the man’s arm. “Come on.”

Law groaned and let himself fall back against the outer wall of the van, tipping his head back.

“What the fuck did you do that for?” Corazón asked.

“You’re not him.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that.”

“That means you don’t torture or kill people, Cora. It’s not you.”

“How would you know?” Corazón spit out.

“I said I’ll find him!” Law shot back. “I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again. And next time I’ll be prepared.”

  


  


They stuffed the bodyguard into the back of the van. Law and Corazón were quietly seething but at least they didn’t have to look at each other.

The ride was awkward and silent.

They dropped the guy off somewhere near a subway station and then doubled back to avoid him following them. Law made them stop a block away from his flat.

“I’ll see you.”

He slammed the door and walked away. He couldn’t be around Corazón right now.

He didn’t know when he would be able to again.

  


  


  


The elevator seemed too daunting, almost mocking him with its open doors, so Law took the stairs.

When he entered his floor, he heard muffled voices from behind Bepo’s door, which was standing open a crack.

“I can’t give you anything. You know I can’t if you don’t have the money.”

Law frowned. What was Monet doing here?

“Please,” Bepo said. “Please, just one. I promise I’ll pay you back.”

“That wouldn’t work in a pharmacy and you know it won’t work with me.” She sounded tired.

Law pushed open the door.

“Please,” Bepo repeated. “You can have my TV. And my printer, I don’t need it anymore.”

“Bepo, I have a TV. And I couldn’t even _sell_ that shit.”

Law crossed his arms and stepped further into Bepo’s small apartment. “Hey, what’s going on here?”

Monet sighed and pushed a hand through her long hair. “Doesn’t concern you, really.”

Law ignored her and looked at Bepo. “You’re asking her for _drugs_? Is that why you were working for Doflamingo?”

“No.” Bepo shook his head. “No… I just… I need my Xanax. You know I do.” He looked at Law pleadingly. Law knew Bepo wasn’t taking benzodiazepine recreationally, but the withdrawal would still set in. He bit his lip.

“Get out,” he told Monet. She looked at him with a deep frown on her face but turned and walked out anyway. He looked back at Bepo. “Come with me.”

“Please...”

Law didn’t know if Bepo was still even asking him anything specific. He did follow him to his flat, however. Law sat him down on the couch in his office.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Then he went into his bathroom and opened up his medicine cabinet, digging around at the back until he found the pills his psych had prescribed him way back, when Corazón had first made him go. There were still a lot of them left.

He returned to Bepo and handed him the bottle and a glass of water.

Bepo stared at it for a moment. “It’s a lower dosage than mine…,” he finally mumbled.

“I figured,” Law said. “But it’ll tide you over until we can get you your prescription back.”

Bepo frowned at him. “You can’t save me again.”

“Take the Xanax, Bepo,” Law said. He didn’t want to think about what it meant to save people. To save Bepo.

Still frowning Bepo unscrewed the cap and shook at pill, popping it into his mouth and swallowing it with some water.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment. And then: “He got away, didn’t he?”

“You can have those,” Law said. He didn’t feel too good about it, but it would be better than Bepo going to Monet again. Or worse. For a moment he wanted to ignore Bepo’s question, wanted to live in denial for a while longer while he took care of him. But he nodded anyway and gave a quiet, admitting “Yes.”

“I...” For a moment Bepo looked like he wanted to object to taking the medication. Then he nodded. He was silent for a while.

Law sighed and walked towards the kitchen. He needed a distraction. “Want a sandwich?”

Bepo didn’t give a real answer, only a hum that could be interpreted as wished. Law made him a peanut butter sandwich anyway.

  


“You’re not allergic, are you?”

He put it down on the coffee table in front of him and sat down on his desk chair that he had dragged over.

Bepo shook his head. “You know I’m not... You’ve given me your chunky peanut butter before.”

“Just making sure.”

Bepo didn’t touch the sandwich.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Law said after a moment of watching him. “It _isn’t_ your fault, okay?”

“I had a choice,” Bepo said, glaring at him. Almost as if he wanted to challenge him. Provoke him. Law wasn’t going to fall for it. “I saw him once a day. You know his control doesn’t last that long. I wanted to go back... I took _pictures_ of you.”

“Because he gave you money,” Law said. “He made sure you had a reason to come back, so he could control you all over again.”

He didn’t blame Bepo. He didn’t.

“But I had a choice,” Bepo repeated.

“Is it really a choice if he paid for your therapy and your medication and your rent?” Law countered. He wasn’t going to let Bepo blame himself, either.

“He wasn’t paying my whole rent...” Bepo said. “I still had some money left from my loans. But without my meds… I’d be dead.” He stared at the sandwich dejectedly. Law didn’t have trouble believing that. He had seen what life did to people.

“I’ll pay for it,” Law said, decisively.

Bepo laughed weakly. “You don’t have the money.”

“How do you know?” Law said and pushed the sandwich closer to him. He didn’t have the money, Bepo was right, but he was going to find a way. “I was paying for it already, in a way. I can’t save you, but I can help, okay?”

“You might as well just kill me,” Bepo said, almost as if he hadn’t heard him. “He’ll find me and then I’ll be dead anyway.”

“Leave that to me, alright? You’re of no interest to him anymore, believe me.”

Bepo looked at him with suspicion. Law sighed. “You wanted to help people, too, right? Psychology and Social Work… Let me help you. You can even work for me, if you want.” He knew he would regret the offer. There was a reason he preferred working alone. But getting Bepo back on his feet was more important right now.

Bepo sighed. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

Law smiled a little. “Eat your sandwich.”

He got up. His own hunger was finally catching up with him.

“What happened to your eye?” Bepo asked, suddenly.

Law sighed. “Nothing you have to concern yourself with...”

“Was it him?”

“Kind of. Some thug he hired. It’s okay, really.”

He disappeared into the kitchen and made himself a sandwich. Then he dug around in the freezer compartment of his fridge to find something that would help with the swelling of his eye. The only thing he could find was frozen broccoli.

He was glad that at least his shoulder hadn’t opened up again.

With his plate and the broccoli on his face he came back into the office, settling down opposite Bepo.

“He only did this to you because of me, you know that, right?” Everything was because of Law. That was just what happened. He was at fault here.

Bepo shrugged. He had eaten two bites of the peanut butter toast. “I was an easy target.”

Law sighed. “We can’t give up, okay?”

“Hmm...” Bepo took another bite and looked at him quizzically. “All this time I… thought you didn’t really care, or something. But turns out you’re just as...” He paused and grimaced, obviously unable to find the right, non-hurtful words.

“Damaged?” Law offered.

“Yeah,” Bepo said.

“I’ll find him again,” Law said. “And then we both get your revenge.”

“I don’t want revenge,” Bepo said. “I just want to rest.”

“That’s okay, too. But you _are_ my assistant now,” Law reminded him.

That made Bepo grin. “Fair point.”

They ate the rest of their dinner in silence before Law got up to put the broccoli back in the freezer.

“You can stay here tonight.”

“My apartment is just down the hall...”

Law looked at him. “Bepo...”

“Yeah, okay.” Bepo sighed.

It would make him feel better not to be alone tonight. It would make them both feel better.

“You’re not a prisoner,” Law told him. “But I swear to god if you run away I will find you. I have very annoying friends who would love to spend time with you.”

He dreaded the day Luffy and his friends got their hands on Bepo fully.

“Not helping,” Bepo said but he smiled a little.

“Sleep well.”

  


  


  


Finding sleep was exceedingly hard. Law lay awake and stared at the ceiling with his throbbing eye.

He wanted to scream. The pressure in him had been building for days and today had been the day the valve was supposed to open. Instead someone had welded it shut.

At this rate, he was going to explode.

This was going to kill him.

He rolled onto his side and pressed his eyes shut. He needed to stop thinking about this. He had to sleep now. Tomorrow he could wake up again and scream, and scream, and scream, and think about a plan. Tomorrow he could find a new way to save everyone.

  


  


The next morning, Bepo was dead asleep and Law’s eye was swollen shut.

He dragged himself out of bed and into the shower and the reality of what had happened yesterday hit him again. They had failed, and Doflamingo was still out there. He could feel the guilt coursing through him like it had gotten into his bloodstream and was now spreading like an infection. He wondered if it would get better, after. If they ever succeeded. After they had achieved a good ending. Law didn’t believe in happy endings, but maybe there was good out there. He breathed out and withstood the urge to just crumple to the floor. Maybe. Maybe.

He could do this. He had to.

He shut off the water a little too violently.

Breakfast was out of the question. He didn’t even remember how he had managed to eat yesterday.

He did go into the kitchen however to look at the dirty dishes from yesterday for a moment and then decided that they were a problem for a later time. Instead he got the frozen broccoli again. Maybe he would feel better once the swelling around his eye went down and he could see clearly again.

  


He was barely dressed when his phone rang.

Law approached it cautiously and peered down to where it was lying on the nightstand. Unknown Caller.

He felt goosebumps creep up his arms and cursed himself for it. Maybe it was a new client. It could be anyone.

Still he felt himself unable to talk when he finally picked up.

“Why do you want me alive?”

Law almost dropped the phone. Of course it was _him_.

He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

“Oh, how rude of me. Good morning.” Doflamingo chuckled.

Law didn’t know why – or how – he kept the phone at his ear.

He hated himself for not having two separate phones, for having his number out on the internet for everyone to see on his website. Of course it had to lead to this eventually.

“You know, it’s interesting to be powerless, for once. Does everyone else feel like this all the time? I mean, If we’re being totally truthful, I didn’t feel it at all, because I was unconscious, but I would have. Even the thought is exhilarating. I was entirely at your mercy.”

Law bit his tongue to keep from saying anything – or screaming unintelligibly. The broccoli slipped out of his hand and almost hit his foot.

“Giving me the silent treatment, I see. Well, I did hear your voice yesterday, even if it was just two words and an insult at that...”

Oh, the words Law wanted to call him.

“Hmm… Let’s see, you’re mad about the crazy kid, aren’t you?”

Law’s blood was boiling. Ice water was leaking on the floor.

“I did him a favor, really. He had no insurance and he couldn’t work with that _condition_ of his. Sure, maybe I insinuated it was a little worse than it actually is, but everything’s fair in war, isn’t it? He had his therapy and his medication and a few gaps in his memory and I had… as much of you, as I could.”

Silence stretched on for nearly ten seconds.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll leave the precious kid alone, if you do his job for him.”

It was a terrible offer and Law knew that he had no other choice than to take it.

“Let’s say, a picture every day, at 10 a.m.?”

Law could basically hear the disgusting smile and he wanted to wipe it off Doflamingo’s face, wanted to carve his eyes out of his skull and break each of his greedy, long fingers. He wanted to smash his phone.

“Come on. You know you want to. And don’t forget to smile, my boy.”

He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing his voice. He wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to show him his face. He couldn’t do this.

“Do we have a deal?”

Law hung up instead of answering.

  


He threw up in the kitchen sink, on top of the dishes.

If Doflamingo wanted war, he could have it.

He let water run over the mess and watched it swirl down the drain for a moment before going to his knees. His shaky hands rooted around in the cabinet under the sink for a pair of rubber gloves and a sponge.

He jumped up again like he was coming up for air, gasping in deep breaths, and started scrubbing the dishes and the sink vigorously. He was going to clean up his messes and he would start with this.

“Are you okay?” Bepo asked from behind him and Law flinched, dropping one of the plates. The clattering was too loud in his ears. He was surprised it didn’t break.

“Did I wake you up?” Law asked without turning around. He didn’t apologize. He didn’t have the capacity for that right now.

“Kind of. It’s okay though… I think.” He was quiet for a second and Law could feel the hesitation and concern radiating off of him without turning around. Finally he seemed to be able to get the words out: “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing worse than usual,” Law lied. “He just… won’t get out, you know?” He tapped the sopping wet sponge to his temple and felt soapy water run down his cheek.

“Want a Xanax?”

Law almost had to smile. He turned towards Bepo a little and shook his head. “I’ll manage. You need them more than me.”

Now he could see the skepticism on Bepo’s face, but the kid didn’t seem to want to argue.

“Need some help with the dishes?” Bepo asked instead.

“I’m almost done,” Law said. Bepo really didn’t have to see this. “You want breakfast?”

“Not really,” Bepo said. “Maybe later.”

“Yeah, me neither...”

“I think I’m gonna head back to my place. Take a shower and change into some… non-stinky clothes,” Bepo mumbled, his nose scrunched up.

Law nodded. “Good idea.”

“You’re gonna call me if… there’s anything to do, right?” Bepo asked.

“I will. You work for me now.”

It sounded more reassuring than he had intended. He rinsed off the plates and put them on the dish rack. Then he pulled off the gloves and discarded them in the trash, because he would never be able to see them again without wanting to throw up.

When he turned, Bepo was back in the office space, pulling on his shoes.

“I’ll see you later then,” he said and stood up to walk to the door.

“Yeah,” Law said.

The door closed behind him and Law felt like he was going to break.

  


  


  


He wanted to shower again but he knew it would just be a waste of water and time. Instead he brushed his teeth and then stared at himself in the mirror, considering makeup. But what would be the point, really? What was the point in still keeping up pretenses?

He pulled out his phone again.

One new message.

_You know I’m right. Take the deal._

Law ground his teeth together and deleted the message. He wasn’t going to do it. He knew he had to. But he wasn’t ready to face that particular reality quite yet.

For a moment his thumb hovered over Corazón’s name in his contact list but then he shook his head and locked his phone instead. He couldn’t do this right now.

He would have to deal with this himself. Like he always did.

The broccoli was melting on his bedroom floor and Law picked it up. Threw a dirty shirt to soak up the puddle and the package in the trash.

Cleaning up his own messes.

  


  


  


He didn’t know what to do first, though. He didn’t know what to do at all. The entire plan had been shattered, so he would have to start from scratch.

So he just sat at his desk for a while, staring down at the haphazard case file he had about Doflamingo. Nothing about it made sense anymore. The puzzle had come apart and the pieces wouldn’t fit together like they had yesterday.

His throat itched and he stretched out his hand for the drawer he kept his whiskey in.

His phone rang again. He drew his hand back like he had been burnt and closed his eyes for a second before looking at the screen.

It was Tsuru.

He breathed out. It was okay.

He grabbed for it and hit the answer button. At least this wasn’t going to burn him.

“Yes?”

“Hello Law? It’s Tsuru. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, I was awake. What’s up?”

It was telling what people thought about him when they expected him to still be asleep at half past ten.

“I’m at the prison. Rebecca was... attacked last night and is in the infirmary.”

His stomach dropped. He gripped his phone harder. Would it ever end?

“What happened?”

“One of her fellow inmates attacked her. I wouldn’t have called you at all, but she won’t tell me anything. She’s been asking for you.”

None of this made sense, either.

“I’ll be right there.”

Law was sick of life throwing him curve balls and changing the game in the middle of the match.

Nothing was ever easy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *claps hands* role reversals? character growth? that's the shit i enjoy writing, man.
> 
> next chapter should hopefully include some luffy again ;)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [rose voice] it's been 84 years...  
> man i'm so so sorry for the long wait but school wouldn't let up on the exams (and i'm actually doing well? can you believe?) and then i got distracted by taz projects and 10 days of lawlu  
> but i'm back now! and i'm hoping to get back to updating every two weeks over the summer (so until september, when school starts up again)
> 
> now, for the warnings: this chapter contains discussions of rape and pregnancy
> 
>  
> 
> take care, and see you in two weeks <3

 

 

Law didn’t remember how often he had left his flat in a hurry during this whole ordeal. He didn’t remember how often a phone call had plunged him into new depths of panic. Tsuru’s news were just another stream of bad news in an already overflowing pool of despair.

On days like these he hated not having a car, even though he couldn’t afford one and also didn’t think it would be practical. A lot of city streets were too narrow for the amount of cars trying to cram through them and eight out of ten times it was faster to get places with public transport. Today though he wished he had one, just so he would have something to do instead of fidgeting and worrying his lip.

But with the way he was – car-less and unwilling to ask for help – he was stuck sitting in a half-empty subway car across from an older woman who shot him dirty looks every time his leg started jiggling again. He tried suppressing the movement but then his thoughts started racing again, so eventually he settled on ignoring her and letting out the pressure. Fuck her.

Fuck everyone.

  


It took him over an hour to get to the prison.

Checking in for visiting took too long, too, despite the fact that Rebecca was in the infirmary. Law had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking.

Finally he made it to the room she was in.

She looked so small in the bed she was lying in and Law was harshly reminded of the day he had met her. A small girl in a big bed, looking lost and hurt.

She was just as pale as she had been back then and there was a bruise blooming on her cheek, but otherwise she looked unmarred. Law wondered what injuries were hidden under her hospital gown and blanket.

Tsuru was there, sitting in a chair, looking frazzled. She looked up when Law entered.

“Finally,” she said and rose from her seat. “She won’t tell me anything. She won’t tell anyone anything.”

Law almost scoffed. He wouldn’t, either, if he was in her shoes. But that was because he didn’t trust people, and it pained him to realize that Rebecca didn’t anymore, either.

He gave Tsuru a half-nod and then moved closer to Rebecca, who was watching him warily.

“Hey,” he said and shocked himself with how soft his own voice sounded. “What happened?”

“I got beaten up,” she said, as if the obvious was the right one, the same sarcastic tone a teenager would use on a parent.

“I know,” Law said. “Was it Doflamingo?”

“No,” both Tsuru and Rebecca said at the same time.

Law frowned and tried to make sense of that statement, and the vehemence coming from both of the women. It was obvious that he wouldn’t get anything further out of Rebecca as long as Tsuru was there. He looked at her. “Can you leave us for a second?”

Tsuru pursed her lips but nodded gripped Law’s arm for a moment. “After you join me outside?”

He sighed and looked at Rebecca. “I’ll be right back.”

They walked outside and Tsuru quietly closed the door behind them.

“I was going to go back to the office anyway. There’s not a lot I can do if she won’t name the person who attacked her.” She seemed tired. Of course. Of course they were all tired.

“But you know who did it?”

“There’s rumors, of course. They say they didn’t see anyone but...” she trailed off. Law’s mouth turned into a thin line. She had bribed a guard, most likely. No use talking about it in the prison infirmary hallway though, it would just get them both into even more trouble.

“Give me the name,” he said.

Tsuru clicked her tongue. “You can’t get involved here.”

“I’m already involved.”

The audacity to imply that this wasn’t his fight… He had brought her into this, and he didn’t appreciate her trying to gatekeep him and trying to push him out.

“Fine.” She frowned and looked around, then leaned in closer. “People are saying it was someone named Lola Charlotte.”

Law remembered the burly form of a woman from a few days ago, leaning into the visitor’s room to call out to Rebecca. The fear and anticipation in Rebecca’s eyes. It had to have been her.

“Got it,” he said.

“We can’t do anything if she doesn’t want to do anything about it,” Tsuru reminded him.

“I know. I’ll talk to her,” Law said and turned back to the door, one hand already on the handle.

“I’ll see you,” Tsuru said.

“I hope not,” Law mumbled after she was out of earshot.

He slipped back into the room. For a moment he stood at the foot of Rebecca’s bed and they watched each other, him with his arms crossed and her with the determined expression of someone who was ready to keep a secret at all costs.

“You look like shit,” she told him.

“Right back at ya.”

“You could’ve just told me that you needed the money for protection.”

“I didn’t,” Rebecca said. “I mean… I did, but not in the way you think.”

“We can have you moved from gen pop,” Law said. “Put into isolation, protective… housing, whatever.”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, I don’t… I don’t need that.”

“You don’t need it or you don’t want it?”

“Both.”

Law pushed down his frustration and surveyed her again. Her face seemed relatively unmarred except for the bruise, which meant the damage had to be elsewhere.

He played through their last conversation again, tapping his fingers against his thigh. They kept staring at each other. Until finally, it dawned on him.

“You paid her to take you out,” he said. “With my money.”

“Not to kill me,” Rebecca said, resigned.

“Then what? Are you punishing yourself?” It would be a more direct approach than the one he had taken with the alcohol and sleeplessness and recklessness. Much quicker, and much more immediately painful.

She shook her head. “No… no this isn’t some kind of backwards... guilt shit.”

“Then why?” he demanded. He couldn’t make sense of it. Why would she pay someone to make her end up like this? Why would she want to be here?

He finally looked away.

Maybe he should leave.

“I’m pregnant,” Rebecca said, suddenly. “I’m still pregnant.”

Law felt like the floor had disappeared. He let himself fall into the chair.

“Shit.”

He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t even fathom the pain she must be in. The terror. The absolutely revolting feeling of having something in you you didn’t want.

“They have a doctor on call here,” he said after gathering himself. There were options. She didn’t have to go through all this extra pain when there were ways to abort without all this injury.

“I’m not waiting,” she said, defiantly. Law wondered where she took the strength from to speak so clearly with tears in her eyes. Her voice carried. It had the power to make you stop, and think, and understand. “It takes two months to get an appointment. I can’t wait, do you understand?

Law nodded slowly. “We could get Tsuru to move up the appointment...”

“No.” Rebecca shook her head. “Do you know what this feel like? Of course you don’t! I _can’t_ wait. Every moment this… thing is growing in me, I live through it all over again.”

He didn’t dare close his eyes as the cold feeling washed over him. She didn’t have to say it but she did it anyway.

“I get raped all over again.”

_I know_ , Law wanted to say. He wanted to scream it, but there was no point. He knew what she was going through, and yet he was as far removed from it as humanly possible. He had no idea what this had to feel like. He couldn’t even come close.

“I won’t do it. I won’t give life to it. I can’t.”

“Okay,” Law said, quietly.

He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he would figure it out. He owed her that much.

  


  


  


What he did remember, in every detail, was the day he had met Doflamingo.

The way his cocky, naive younger self had walked into the building, intent on seeing what was happening, sick of being kept in the dark, sick of watching his fellow students fuck up their lives. He had wanted to know, had _had_ to know where the drugs came from and the people disappeared to. He had been about to sabotage everything Corazón had been working for, but he hadn’t known it. He had been so blissfully ignorant.

It had been a restaurant, not unlike the Minutes sur mer, but it had seemed darker to him than normal restaurants. He had been following his friend quietly, taking the scene in, when his eyes fell on the man in the middle.

Outrageous pink suit, asshole shades despite the dim light in the room. An arm around a woman, the other hand wrapped around his drink, and a too large smile on his face.

Law had immediately hated him. He was intrigued, despite the anger welling up in him.

How could a man this flashy run an operation like this?

Then _he_ had pulled down his sunglasses and their eyes met.

That had been the moment it was too late, Law figured. Sure, he hadn’t been under his control until much later, but he had been caught in his net already.

“Come here, boy,” he had said.

People had been disappearing into (and due to) Doflamingo’s so-called family for months, and it had been Law’s turn then. Not even Corazón had been able to help him. Especially not Corazón.

  


  


The entire train ride home he wondered about what to do next. He couldn’t get what he needed from Tsuru’s contacts, the conversation between him and Rebecca had been private. But he didn’t want to call Chopper. Too many favors had already passed between them, and he doubted Chopper would be ready to commit another felony for him. Calling Corazón was of course also out of the question.

He kept turning in circles in his head as the wheels under him rattled on, and exhaustion threatened to claim him.

He just collapsed into bed when he got home, unable to do anything, unable to decide on a path. Unable to turn to anyone.

  


The next morning looked just as bleak, but Law dragged himself out of bed anyway. He checked his phone to look at the time – 9:58 am – and wasn’t exactly surprised to find a new message. He knew who it was from without even looking at the name. He opened it anyway, because he wouldn’t stop anyway.

_I’m waiting._

Law heaved a sigh that came closer to a growl and scrubbed a hand over his face. Fine then. Fine. If that was what it took to get  _him_ off Bepo’s case, he would do it.

Maybe it would even give him some insight  into what Doflamingo’s next steps were, what he was planning, even just where he was.

It was a small consolation for the disgusting thing Law was about to do.

He opened his camera and raised his phone.  He looked terrible in the dim morning light filtering through his closed blinds,  paler than he remembered with the discolored parts of his skin standing out less, and his eye still blue and swollen, another bruise on his cheekbone on the opposite side. B ut Doflamingo deserved to see what he had done to him. (He would probably enjoy it, Law thought, and then pushed that thought away.) He pressed the  button on the screen.

The shutter sound reminded him of a door closing and he made a mental note to turn off his sound next time.

He lowered his phone and pulled up the message app again. Then his finger hovered over the picture button for a second, before he hit it decisively. He didn’t have a choice anymore. He selected the picture and sent it and tried to ignore his nausea.

His phone vibrated with an answer mere seconds after the message had sent.

_Next time, smile._

Law covered his mouth and locked his phone, withstanding the impulse to throw it against the wall.

  


If he had done one vile thing, he might as well just do another.  So he called Tsuru.  She answered on the second ring.

“Didn’t think I’d hear from you,” she said instead of a greeting. She sounded tired.

“I wouldn’t have if I had any other option,” Law said. He felt terrible even doing it, but he couldn’t get Rebecca what she needed on his own. “I need you to get pills for Rebecca. Mifepristone and misopristol.”

“What...” It took Tsuru a moment to process his words. “An abortion? She’s _pregnant_?! Oh… Jesus… God, y ou know I can’t legally do that.”

At least she wasn’t objecting on religious grounds – although Law had figured that she wasn’t the type for that. He pinched the bridge of his nose and willed his voice to be calm, although he was mostly unsuccessful:  “You’re her lawyer. You’re supposed to help her. So help her, or I swear to god I will break into a pharmacy and get the stuff myself and then make you defend me in court.”

She had to have friends – or at least acquaintances, Law doubted lawyers had real friends – who were doctors. Not for the first time he wished he had actually finished his education, so he wouldn’t be as utterly useless in this situation.

There was a long pause, until finally Tsuru sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Either she had a heart after all or Law had convinced her, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t care. As long as Rebecca got what she needed, he didn’t need to have more contact with Tsuru as necessary.

“Call me when you do,” he said and hung up. Another thing done.

He should have called Rebecca right then and told her, apologized for breaking her trust, but he couldn’t find it in him. She would eventually see that this was the best thing to do – and that Tsuru would have found out eventually. He didn’t need her to forgive him, anyway. He just needed her to live. 

  


He just sat on his bed for a while, frozen in place, until it all became to much. He dropped his phone on the mattress and went into the bathroom, shedding what little he was wearing, and jumped into the shower.

Before all of this had started back up again he had barely showered, the perfect picture of a depressed man, but now he felt dirty. Always dirty, and whatever he did, the stink wouldn’t wash off. So he kept showering.

He exited his shower twenty minutes later with the skin on his arms partially scrubbed so hard that  it was red where it wasn’t covered with tattoos.  He dried himself off quickly and avoided looking in the mirror – seeing himself in the picture earlier had been enough – and then went back to his bedroom to get dressed.

He had just pulled on his jeans when there was knock on his door. It was way too early for this.

“One second!” he yelled, grabbing a T-Shirt and pulling it on quickly. He didn’t actually have time for a new client, but hoped that it was one anyway – he could need the money and the distraction, mentally.

Yet, when he hurried to the door and opened it, he didn’t find a potential client with a case for him standing in front of it, but Luffy.

“Hey,” Luffy said, smiling, and then, looking up at him, blew up his cheeks. “Wow, what happened to you? Get into trouble with some surveillance subjects again?”

“I wish,” Law mumbled. “What do you want?” He didn’t answer the question, because for one Luffy didn’t need to know and secondly he really did not want to talk about it.

“Just checking up on you, after you ran out on us like a week ago,” Luffy said and pushed past him, too fast for Law to shut the door again. “And also I need your help.”

Law grimaced. It really wouldn’t be smart for him to involved with Luffy any further, but he  followed him into his office anyway.

“I’m fine,” he said, settling behind his desk, but the lie was painfully obvious to them both.

Luffy looked at him for a long moment. “You don’t have to tell me, but… it has to do with that Flamingo guy, right?”

Law shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Do you have time for a case?”

“Not really, but it’s still my job.”

“Good, because I have one for you,” Luffy said and unprompted put an envelope with money on Law’s desk. “I need you to find someone. Name’s Paulie. He gets into a bit of financial trouble now and then, but he’s not a bad person, and now he’s disappeared.”

Law swallowed. “I can’t take your case,” he said before he could stop himself. He pushed the money across the table back at Luffy. Luffy put his hand on Law’s and stopped him.

Law  snatched his hand back.

“Why not?” Luffy asked, as if nothing had happened.

Law grimaced. “I just… don’t think it’s a good idea. You’re already too involved in all of this and I...”  _I can’t get too close to you_ . God, his arguments were too vague without completely exposing himself. He had driven himself into a corner.

“I can take care of myself.” Luffy scoffed. “And besides, this isn’t about me. This is about Iceberg, who really wants to find Paulie.”

Law frowned, and his eye twitched a little. “Who’s Iceberg?”

“Paulie’s employer,” Luffy said. “A childhood friend of Franky’s. And he kiiiind of has information I need.”

Law would have asked who Franky was, but he was getting tired of the annoying questions himself, and he dimly remembered Luffy mentioning someone by that name once. The kid just had too many friends.

“What kind of information?” This was getting more suspicious by the minute, and Law didn’t usually pen Luffy as someone to keep secrets.

“Sorry, I can’t really tell,” Luffy said. “It’s kind of...private.”

And just like that, Law had been drawn in again. He cursed himself  for his curiosity . “Fine,” he said. “I’ll do it, but you’re not paying me.”

Luffy reacted by shoving the money across the table again. Law steered clear this time. “That might work with Nami, but not with me. I’m going to pay you, or I’ll take my business somewhere else.”

And Law found that despite the ugly feeling in his gut, despite the guilt, he wasn’t tempted to say yes to that deal. He didn’t want Luffy to leave.

He was in deep fucking shit.

“Tell me more about this Paulie guy,” he said and leaned back.

“He’s a bit of a gambler,” was what Luffy opened with, and the picture started forming in Law’s head immediately. “Iceberg thinks he might have gotten into trouble with loan sharks after he stopped giving him advances on his salary.”

“Sounds pretty straightforward,” Law said. He wasn’t sure what Luffy needed his help for then. Paulie might have just gone underground to avoid getting roughed up. “How long has he been gone?”

“About three days, Iceberg thinks,” Luffy said. “He’s missed work before, but not for three days straight, and he’d at least answer the phone if Iceberg called. And his place is deserted, Franky went and checked.”

“Either he’s on the run…,” Law mused.

“Or something happened to him,” Luffy finished for him.

Law sighed and pushed away from his desk to get up. “Only one way to find out. Where does he live?”

  


  


He hadn’t figured Luffy would want to come with him, but in retrospect – considering his interest in his work – he should have expected it.  So of course Luffy didn’t simply give him this Paulie guy’s address, no, he insisted on accompanying Law there.

Law only argued half-heartedly, and then gave up, because Luffy wouldn’t give him the address, and he had better things to do than trying to fight Luffy’s thick head and stubbornness.

He knocked on Bepo’s door on the way out but didn’t get an answer, so he shot him a quick text while in the elevator to let him know that he was going out on a case. Just in case Bepo needed him.

Fuck, he was going soft.

  


Paulie’s apartment was a few blocks down from Law’s apartment building where the half-respectable part of the city gave way to the shady area that Law had become accustomed to a lot when he wasn’t doing cases for cheating real estate brokers.

Luffy had insisted on walking instead of taking the subway.

It was winter now, and the dark clouds pe e king through between the houses looked like snow. It was cold, and Law buried his nose in his scarf and his hands in his pockets; the familiar weight of his messenger bag over his shoulder anchoring him.

“Don’t you get cold?” he asked Luffy after they had been walking for about five minutes, and the silence was starting to get awkward. Luffy wasn’t wearing shorts – like Law had seen him do well into chilly October – but his jacket didn’t look like it was actually made for temperatures below 5° Celsius and he didn’t have a scarf. His nose looked a little pink.

Law caught himself and averted his eyes.

Luffy shrugged. “ Might be the Devil Fruit?” he said. “I don’t get cold very fast. Eventually, if it drops  way below freezing, but this is fine. I run warm.” And with that he stretched out his arm and touched  his hand to Law’s cheek.

Law flinched  away and raised his own hand, almost hitting Luffy in response .

“Don’t do that,” he said, a little too sharply. Had it not have been Luffy, he might have been a step away from reciting street names.

God, he needed a drink.

Luffy’s hand really was warm.

“I’m sorry,” Luffy said, quickly drawing his hovering hand back. “You don’t like being touched, do you? But did you feel how warm it is?”

“Not particularly,” Law said. “And yes. That’s odd for this time of year. What’s your regular temperature?” He was glad to have another topic to discuss.

“Like 28, I think? Chopper made me keep it for a week once.”

It really was interesting. Law had wondered about both the origin and the effects of Devil Fruits a lot, but had rarely talked to other users about their powers. He had been a subject of suspicion and ridicule way too often himself to ask too many questions.

But this was the kind of research he would have wanted to get into if he had continued his education.

“You don’t run warm,” he said, the ghost of Luffy’s touch still lingering on his skin. “You run hot.”

Luffy laughed.

Law didn’t think it was funny.

  


Thankfully they got to Paulie’s apartment quickly after that.

The door was closed but the landlady let them in after Luffy introduced himself with a bright smile. People really seemed to like him, and Law pretended he didn’t know why.

“She said the lock wasn’t broken, so I don’t think it was a break-in,” Luffy said. Law hummed and dug in his bag for the latex gloves he always carried with him for situations like this. If there had been a break-in or kidnapping after all, he didn’t want to get his prints all over the place. He finally found them, put them on and then gave the lock a cursory look himself before moving on to the only two windows in the studio apartment and giving them a once-over, too.

The small window in the bathroom didn’t seem damaged, either.

“So, what are we looking for?” Luffy asked and Law took a deep breath so he wouldn’t snap at him.

“Anything that would help us find him,” he replied vaguely.

The toothbrush was still there and when Law walked over to the wardrobe and threw it open, all of the clothes were still in it, too.

“Doesn’t seem like he took anything with him, so that speaks for either a very hurried departure or that he was grabbed, and probably not from here.”

“I don’t see a phone, and Franky told me Paulie pawned off his laptop a while ago,” Luffy said.

Law turned and scanned the room. “Are you sure?” he asked. He gingerly sat down on the dirty couch and started combing through things on the coffee table. No phone, just a bunch of bills, lottery tickets, and an ashtray filled with cigars – expensive taste for someone who seemed to have to borrow money a lot.

Luffy had started pulling the blankets off the unmade bed, without gloves, which Law found both unsanitary and irresponsible, but it was too late anyway. “Yep, pretty sure.”

“Alright so, I doubt we’ll get very far here...” Law sighed and picked up some of the lottery tickets. Most of them were old, and none of them were winners, of course. A gambler with terrible luck. But it was something Law could use.

“I have an idea,” he said, drawing Luffy’s attention to himself. “Do you have his phone number?” Luffy didn’t seem like he knew Paulie personally, but he did seem like the kind of person who had all kinds of numbers saved in his phone. 

Luffy came bounding over immediately. “Yup, Franky gave it to me,” he said, his own phone already in hand. Law dug his from his pocket  and took Luffy’s out of his hands after he had pulled up Paulie’s number to punch it into his own without Luffy’s excitedly wriggling hands obscuring his vision.

“Alright, watch this,” Law said and got up. He pressed the call button before holding his finger to his mouth to signal Luffy to be quiet.

He didn’t expect Paulie to pick up. He didn’t even expect the phone to be switched on –  e ither Paulie didn’t want to be found, or he wouldn’t be in a state to reach his phone –  so it wasn’t a surprise when the call went straight to voice mail.

“Hey!” Law shouted into the receiver, his voice several steps higher and much peppier than he had sounded in years – or possibly an entire lifetime. “This is John from Gold Star Lottery and I’m calling to tell you that _you’re a winner_!!”  He was pacing around the room, the nervous energy of his act overtaking him. “Your new Playstation is ready to be picked up whenever, just give me a call at this number.” He gave his own number before hanging up again.

Luffy was staring at him in awe. “That’s awesome! Is he gonna fall for that?”

“He or whoever has him, most likely,” Law shrugged and let himself fall back onto the couch, although he didn’t like the sound it made when he sat down. “With the amount of shit he has lying around here he probably doesn’t remember what he bought tickets for and would be ecstatic to actually win something.”

“What if he really was kidnapped?” Luffy asked.

“Then whoever is gonna call back is going to lead us to him,” Law said.

“And if no one calls back?”

The one flaw in the plan. “ Then I’ll have to find another way,” Law said. He had tucked away his phone again and continued going over the things on the coffee table. “I’ll take whatever I think is important from here and look at it again from home. Try to find connections. Ask about places he might have gone. Ask his neighbors about his habits. Standard detective work...”

“Can I help?” Law looked up and Luffy’s eyes were positively sparkling with excitement. He bit his lip, frozen in the moment.

He had already taken on Bepo – who would have to end up knowing about this case – but involving Luffy beyond him being the actual client… It didn’t feel right to Law. Guilt kept welling up him whenever he talked to him, even so much as  _thought_ of him.

If he got any closer, he would have to come clean, and he wasn’t sure if he could do that.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.

Luffy pouted a little. “But I could help you with the interviewing friends. I know some of them.”

Law sighed. “You don’t know my methods, though, you could potentially make the m clam up or give too much away...” Sometimes it was best to settle for cold, harsh truths. (Or as close to them as he could get.)

“Fine.” Luffy sighed. “But you gotta keep me updated, okay?”

“I will,” Law said. “You’re a client, after all.” Oh how he _wished_ that Luffy was just that.

He put a few things from the flat into his bag and  was about to announce that it was probably time to leave, when suddenly there was a bang  against wood .

The n the door flew open.

Law flinched.

“Man, I didn’t expect that to be open,” a voice said.

Then, another: “Hey, Paulie, my man! We’re here to collect.”

Law turned to see three burly guys standing in the doorway. His heart started racing and his hand automatically flew to his pocket – but he only had one shot of sufentanil, and there were three of them. Plus, he shouldn’t waste it on them.

Could he incapacitate them otherwise? Would his powers be enough for that?

Luffy jumped up, moving in front of Law. “Who are you?” he asked loudly.  He was both half-obscuring his vision and cutting off the guys’ line of sight to Law. Was he protecting him?

Law’s mind had entered a frantic spiral.

“Who are we? Who are _you_?!”  One of the guys shouted at Luffy. It sounded far too close and far too loud in the small room. “What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Paulie!?” 

Luffy raised his arms in what looked like half of a shrug and half a motion of surrender. “I have no idea!”

This, again, was a situation Law desperately wanted to run away from.  When in doubt, it was always flight before fight.

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we are again, even a bit early because luffy is just so Good to write
> 
> warnings for this chapter include a brief discussion of disordered eating, and law's general state of being i guess. also the sending-pictures-to-doflamingo subplot continues. ;/ (let me know if you see anything more specific)

 

Law didn’t end up running away.

He rose from his seat  and stepped in front of Luffy. H is  raised his hands in front of him and  s ummoned a Room, the blue half-globe stretching out over them.  He w asn’t going to let them attack him and Luffy. He w ould cut them to pieces if he had to,  and then get the information they needed out of them. They didn’t need their legs for that.

“What the fuck!” One of the guys said and they all took a few steps back.

“I suggest you tell us what you’re doing here, and fast,” Law said, his own voice barely audible over the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Luffy take a step towards him and stretch out his arm, then change his mind. Instead  Luffy spread out his hands in front of him.

“Let’s all calm down,” he said, still sounding keyed up but obviously making his best attempt at being civil. Law blinked. Luffy didn’t seem the type for conscious deescalation. His room collapsed in on itself in his surprise, his concentration waning. He swore.

“I don’t think so,” guy number two said. “Homeboy here was ready to fuck us up with some weird magic shit literally a second ago.”

“He’s not gonna do that,” Luffy said and Law felt anger well up inside him about being spoken for. “We just wanna have a conversation, okay? Nobody’s gotta get hurt.”

There was a short pause as the three guys stared at them, obviously not convinced,  and Law fought for the control it took not to lose his temper. Finally recognition flashed across  one of their face s .

“Hey, I think I know you,” he said and squinted at Luffy. “You’re that Strawhat guy, from the bar, right?”

Law had moved  backward slightly and saw Luffy beam from the corner of his eye. “Yes!  I’m Monkey D. Luffy.  You’ve been  to my bar ? We’re here to look for Paulie, because he disappeared. And you are…?”

“We just want our money,” the same guy from before repeated. Then, after a short moment of hesitation. “I’m Ryan.” His companions groaned.

Law took a deep breath to steady himself. “So you’re the… collectors. He borrowed money from you recently?”

“Yup, like three weeks ago, and we haven’t seen him in a week – since our last try to collect the money,” Ryan said. The guy to his left elbowed him sharply into the side as a reaction to him giving up information like that, making him wince.

“Oh,” Luffy said. “So you don’t have him?”

“What?” The guy who had just elbowed Ryan stared at Luffy in confusion. “Why would we be here if we did?”

Luffy shrugged. “Our obvious first thought was that you had kidnapped him.”

“Nah, man,” Ryan said, “we have no idea where he is.”

“Well,” Law said, finally stepping away from Luffy. “I guess we’re in the same boat here then.”

The third dude squinted at him,  raising his fists slightly .  Law couldn’t blame him – he had been preparing to attack the three of them just half a minute ago. “Who are you?”

“Trafalgar Law,” Law said and didn’t even think about extending his hand for a handshake. “Private detective.” All three of them looked alarmed and he sighed. “This guy right here hired me to look for Paulie, and since you didn’t kidnap him and we uh, decided not to have a fight right here, I have no business with you. However… we could probably come to an agreement.”

Guy number two looked skeptical. “An agreement?”

“You help us find him, and you get your money,” Law said. Luffy next to him made a little noise of surprise and Law hoped that he wouldn’t protest. Sure, he had no idea where he would get the money from, but if worse came to worst, he would borrow something from Corazón. (Or Sengoku, even though even the thought pained him.)

The three debt collectors looked at them, then each other and Ryan’s expression changed to contemplative first. “Alright,” he said, “we’re gonna have to talk to our boss about it, but that definitely sounds… reasonable.”

Guy number three dragged his companions out of the flat into the hallway, and Law wondered if that really was the best place to make a call to their boss, but didn’t call them out on it.

Luffy tugged on his sleeve. “Is that really a good idea?” he whispered.

Law looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “I thought this would be right up your alley. Bad ideas seem to be your forte.”

“Uh, rude,” Luffy said but grinned. “Like, I see your point, but do you even have the money to pay them?”

“No,” Law said, “but I’ll come up with something. At least I have more money than Paulie.”

“And his life is more important than money,” Luffy mused. Law hadn’t even thought about that, mostly concerned with both deescalating _and_ getting some profit out of the situation, but he figured that Luffy was right.

He tried to listen to the conversation outside in the corridor – mostly out of habit – but they were at least sensible enough to talk as quietly as possible on the phone, so all he could hear were murmurs. Luffy next to him was rocking forward and back on his heels and Law found himself almost mimicking the motion, nervous energy jumping over. He grit his teeth and tampered down the impulse.

“Thank you, by the way,” he said quietly, still through gritted teeth.

Luffy blinked at him. “For what?”

“Holding me back,” Law said. He had a temper, and he knew it, but this confrontation had worked out to their advantage only because of Luffy.

“No problem,” Luffy said and shrugged. “We gotta have each others’ backs, right?”

A chill crept up Law’s back and he couldn’t quite place the emotion he felt as an immediate reaction to that sentence.  The debt collectors returned to the room  before he could reply . 

“He said it’s worth a shot, but you can’t come with us to our HQ,” Ryan said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Law said. “Just give me your phone number and we’ll keep each other updated.”

Ryan approached him carefully – which was kind of satisfying, he should be afraid – and they exchanged numbers before getting ready to go their separate ways.

“One more thing,” Luffy said. “What are _your_ names?” He pointed at the still unnamed two other guys.

“Bryan,” guy number two said. Law almost barked a laugh. Luffy did, and now Law found it even harder not to laugh.

“Gotty,” said the third one and god, that was even funnier.

Maybe Luffy’s moods  _were_ contagious.

  


  


There wasn’t much to do after that besides waiting and boring filing work, so Law could finally convince Luffy to leave him alone after they had walked – again – back to his apartment building.

Finally, he would be able to enjoy some peace and quiet.

Well, as peaceful and quiet as it got.

Law looked at his phone to find still no reaction from Bepo, but finally realized that today was Tuesday, and he was probably at the self-help group meeting.  Good for him.

He tried working on the things he had picked up at Paulie’s flat, but gave up after about twenty minutes. None of them would get him any results. He’d just have to wait for someone to answer his fake win ruse, or move into a different direction.

The moment he stepped away from his work, he got restless again. He looked at his phone to find that it was only 6 pm and there was nothing to do for him except pace through his office and remember all the bad things he had done today.

He had taken a picture of himself for Doflamingo. He had called Tsuru and betrayed Rebecca’s trust. He had been ready to attack three guys on a whim.

He felt disgusting.

Without hesitating much further he grabbed his jacket, his keys and his wallet and went out to get himself some more whiskey.

  


  


The next morning, Luffy showed up at his door again with breakfast at 9:30 am sharp.

Law hadn’t showered, and barely slept,  and probably didn’t smell very good, and he really wanted to slam the door in Luffy’s face, especially at his expression going from smiley to all concerned. But he found that he couldn’t.

“I got you coffee,” Luffy said, “and some tea, because you should really drink something else besides whiskey.”

Law pursed his lips and  let him come in, then  closed the door behind him.  He ignored the quip at his alcohol consumption.

“You hear anything?” Luffy asked, already setting up in his kitchen, while Law followed him.

“No,” Law said and leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, to watch Luffy bustle around his kitchen. It felt strangely… nice. “But it still might work.”

“You should talk to Franky and Iceberg,” Luffy said while he wiped off Law’s kitchen table before he set down cups. “They could help.”

“If they… and you need my help with this, I doubt they know anything more,” Law said, and then added, “but I guess it’s worth a shot. Didn’t get much from the stuff I got at his apartment.”

“It’s a mess,” Luffy said, producing some pastries from the bakery paper bag he had brought. Law didn’t know if he meant Paulie’s flat or his, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to care.

“I’ll set up a meeting with them later today,” he said diplomatically and, considering how Luffy had finished setting up the small breakfast spread, walked over and sat down awkwardly.

He didn’t really feel hungry, but he never did these days, and he knew Luffy would just annoy him until he ate, so he took a tentative bite.

The tea was surprisingly good, and the coffee was the best part. He emptied his cup quickly and then savored the tea a little, holding onto the hot cup for something akin to support. 

He was almost done with his tea when his phone alarm sounded from the b ed room.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath.

Luffy blinked up at him. “Hm?”

Law had set down his cup and got up. “Nothing,” he said. He hurried to the bedroom and checked the time. It was 10.

Time for his disgusting deed of the day.

He looked down at himself, but his unwashed face and ratty T-Shirt would have to do. The day he dressed up for Doflamingo again was the day he would absolutely be lost forever.

His hand shook while he was taking the picture, so it took him several tries, and he didn’t smile in any of them. He sent it off quickly and locked his phone again.

He needed a shower (and whiskey, always whiskey).

When he put his phone down, he saw Luffy standing in the door and flinched.

“What are you doing?” Luffy asked, and from his face Law could tell that he knew he definitely wasn’t taking selfies for enjoyment.

His brain frantically scrambled for an explanation, some kind of lie he could offer Luffy that would be believable and tame enough to not have to explain everything, but despite his years of lies he came up empty.

“I made a deal with the devil.” A tad dramatic.

“You’re sending these to ‘ _Mingo_?” Luffy asked, his voice raising and Law ducked his head at both the anger and the nickname. “Why?!”

“Because I have no other choice!” he spat back. “It was that or see Bepo suffer even more, and I couldn’t do that!”

“What do you mean?”

“He had him taking pictures of me,” Law said. “Kept him close with promises of making his anxiety better, when all he did was make it worse. I had to something. This is a good tradeoff.”

Luffy’s expression softened a little, but it turned sad  in exchange for the anger , which was so uncharacteristic and unexpected that Law had to look away.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Luffy said and sat down on Law’s bed. “Tell me what happened.”

Law’s eyes darted from his phone to the door to the window – a terrible escape route, they were on the fifth floor – back to Luffy and finally, they settled on his hands. And then he  sat down, too, and told Luffy everything about what had happened with Bepo and Doflamingo, their foiled capture plan, the bodyguards, the phone call and subsequent picture deal. He even mentioned the radio silence between him and Corazón in passing, because it had been grating on him.

He didn’t know if it was alright to tell Luffy all of this, but his gut told him that he could trust Luffy.

It was  terrifying.

Luffy listened through the entire thing patiently, throwing in questions intermittently, but he grew quieter and quieter.

Finally, after Law had finished talking, they sat next to each other, and were both silent.

“You don’t have to fight him alone, you know?” Luffy said after a while, after the silence had already dragged on uncharacteristically long for him.

Law scoffed. “ I do.” Why did everyone keep saying the same thing? He was the one who had been targeted in this, who had all the indirect fault, so he had to set it right.

He looked up just as Luffy rolled his eyes. “No, you don’t.” Law wanted to protest, like he had with Corazón and Bepo and his therapists, and everyone before them, but Luffy didn’t let him get a word out. “We have a stake in this, too, right? Rebecca is my friend.  _You’re_ my friend. I want to help, not see you suffer all the time.”

Law physically recoiled at the words, his hands balling into fist. He couldn’t be Luffy’s friend. Aside from all the shit he brought with him, there were the things he had done. He couldn’t…

“I’m not your friend,” he said automatically.

“Uh, pretty sure I have a say in that matter,” Luffy said. “And I don’t care how often we’re going to have this conversation. I’m going to help you, doesn’t matter what you think about it. You can’t stop me, because you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Don’t say that,” Law choked out. “You don’t know that.” _You don’t know anything._ Law had already hurt Luffy so badly, and he didn’t _know_ , would someday know, and then he would never want to see Law again, and the pain would be so much greater.

Law hated this.

“No, I _know_ ,” Luffy said, stubbornly. “I know you would never intentionally do anything to hurt me. Because at your core, you’re a good person. You don’t drink so much because you like it, but because you want to forget all the bad things that happened to you. You don’t work so hard for the money, but to set things right.”

“I don’t think you know me well enough to say that,” Law said flatly.

“I’ve seen enough of what you do,” Luffy said. “I’m not gonna change my mind. You’re a good person.”

Law didn’t know how to respond to that. He didn’t know what to do with Luffy, didn’t know how to cope with his boundless positivity.

“I need a shower,” he finally said, tonelessly.

“I’ll leave, then,” Luffy said. “You wanna grab some dinner later?” Law glared at him and Luffy smiled. “I’ll take that as a no. Just think about what I said, okay?”

And just like that he was gone, leaving a void in Law’s flat.

  


He took his shower and then called this Franky guy that Luffy kept mentioning. He could have gone straight to the source, this Iceberg person, but something in him thought it would be better to work from the ground up to the top.

“Ya, sure you can come around,” Franky said on the phone, and his voice sounded vaguely familiar, like Law had heard it once before. When Franky gave him the address of the garage he worked at, he realized why and suddenly he would rather work a different case.

But he pulled himself together. “I’ll be there in a bit,” he said and hung up.

Of course it was just his luck that Franky was the person working at the garage close to where he had killed Luffy’s brother. Close to where he had broken the surface of the concrete floor on a construction site and stolen secrets he still didn’t know anything about.

He made himself sick,  and when he accidentally saw himself in the mirror he couldn’t stomach the sight of his discoloration, so he put on a layer of make-up to hide it. Then  he pulled on his boots and coat, shoved his keys, wallet and phone into his pockets and left the house.  Armor on.

He couldn’t disappoint Luffy any further than he already had. (And would  again , because eventually he would slip, and everything would come out, and his world would burn once again.)  Not with this.

  


  


When he arrived at the garage, Franky was standing outside taking a smoke break, and Law immediately recognized him as the turquoise haired mechanic who had given him the names of the hospitals  over two months ago.

“Don’t I know you?”, Franky said and looked at him suspiciously.

“I might have been around once or twice,” Law replied vaguely and wondered if he could ask him for a smoke. “Also Luffy thinks we’re friends, so...” He gave a noncommittal shrug and Franky grinned.

“Yeah, he does that. Come on.” He extinguished his cigarette under his heel and gestured to the open garage doors. Law followed him through the spacious work area to a small office, and Franky shut the door behind them. Franky took a can of cola out of a small fridge and looked at Law questioningly. “Want one?”

Law shook his head. “No, thank you.”  He had probably had enough caffeine for one day, and cola always made him feel sticky  and sickly sweet .

“Suit yourself.” Franky shrugged and settled into a chair. Law did the same. “So, what do you want to know about Paulie?”

Law grinned slightly. Straight to the point; he liked that. “Anything you can tell me, to be honest. Anything you might think was relevant.”  He took out a  voice recorder and held it up slightly. “Is it okay if I record this?”

Franky shrugged. “Feel free.” Law pressed the button and started the recording.

“I can’t tell you much about the guy, really,” Franky said and took a sip of his cola. “We worked together for a while, never got along that great, he tried to borrow money from me. He does good work, but he has a problem with money and gambling and shit.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told as much,” Law said.

“He skips work sometimes to go to casinos or betting offices. Iceberg lets it slide, usually, but we clashed about it a lot while we were still working together, before I got my own place here.”

Law hummed. “Did he have any preferred places he went to when he vanished before?”

“Sure,” Franky said, “but I’m sure Iceberg and Luffy have already checked out all of them. He’s probably in deeper financial trouble than previously thought. He never knew when to stop...”

“You don’t sound like you really want to help him,” Law said and he couldn’t keep the hint of amusement out of his voice.

Franky rolled his eyes. “Like I said, I never really liked him, but Iceberg cares about him. And Luffy’s a good kid,  who’s just trying to help, especially since Iceberg...” He looked up and frowned. “Never mind.”

Law raised his eyebrows. “Since Iceberg what?”

“I don’t think I should be the one to blab about that,” Franky said and picked up his coke can again. “But he’s big in the construction business, he’s gonna run for district mayor soon, he told me… And a position in politics comes with information, information that he might already have. Information that he partially obtained through Paulie. Information that’s relevant to Luffy.”

“What information?” Law was getting impatient. Being vague wouldn’t help them, and if this information was as valuable as Franky made it out to be, it would be motive for a kidnapping.

“I honestly can’t tell you,” Franky said. “But Luffy might, if you ask him.”

Just what  L aw needed. Another conversation with Monkey D. Luffy.

  


He left the garage feeling profoundly unsatisfied. He had gotten nowhere. In fact, he had just collected more mysteries and secrets.

  


  


He avoided Luffy for the rest of the day, even though both his curiosity and his drive to get this case over with were killing him, and managed to even ignore his calls until midday the next day, when Luffy knocked on his door again.

“Let’s go, we’re going out for lunch.”

Law looked at him as if he had two heads, then he looked down at himself, at his ratty sweatpants and T-Shirt with at least two holes. “I don’t think so.”

Luffy rolled his eyes. “Franky called me and told me what he told you. So I’m gonna explain some things to you.” Law frowned slightly, but before the thoughts in his head could even finish forming, Luffy was already talking again. “But not here, because your place is depressing.”

“Uh, rude?” Law managed. “It’s a perfectly fine apartment.”

“For a depressed person maybe,” Luffy said. “Could need some sunlight and a fresh coat of paint.”

“Sunlight hurts my eyes,” Law deadpanned.

“You’re so dramatic,” Luffy said. “Come on, get dressed, I know this great place that does kebabs that Sanji hates because they do them better than him.”

Law didn’t have the chance to protest because Luffy pushed him towards his bedroom  insistently. He did ease up after two meters, thankfully, and Law went on his own, because he knew Luffy wouldn’t take no for an answer. Stupid, pushy asshole.

While he changed into proper jeans and the first shirt he could find that didn’t have any stains on it, he thought about how easy it was to joke with Luffy – and how he didn’t blame Law for making dark jokes about his general state of being.  With Corazón, it would have started with disappointed looks and ended in a debate about Law’s bad habits, but Luffy had started it himself, and he didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest.  It was refreshing and disorienting at the same time.

Law almost would’ve pulled on his zip-up hoodie from the last two days again, but there was make-up smeared all over one sleeve from when he had gone to meet Franky, and he was sure that it didn’t smell so good anymore, either. So he pulled a random pullover out of his wardrobe and put it on. Temperatures had dropped further over night and he was already cold on a good day.

Finally he emerged from his room again to Luffy making tea in his kitchen.

“I thought we were going out for lunch?” Law asked. The words felt foreign on his tongue.

“We are,” Luffy said and looked up from the thermos he was filling. “But from the way you’re bundling up I know you get much colder than me, and it’s a bit of a walk, and their coffee is terrible. I don’t know what they do with it.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like a coffee person.”

“I’ll have you know that I actually made the coffee you had for breakfast yesterday,” Luffy said. “I just don’t drink it much, because caffeine makes me feel weird.”

“Happens to lots of people,” Law said diplomatically, although it was hard to hide his surprise at the realization that Luffy had been the one to make that heavenly coffee. “Caffeine’s not for everyone, and you have an abundance of energy already.”

Luffy grinned. “Nami also always says that.”  He walked over and pressed the thermos into Law’s hands.

Law sighed a little. He went into his office and found his messenger bag, shoving the thermos inside, because he didn’t want to carry it around  in his hands all day and it didn’t look like Luffy had brought a bag.

“You were right about the yellow, by the way,” Luffy said as Law deposited his bag on a chair and went to put on his boots.

“Huh?”

“Yellow suits you better than red.”

Law paused in lacing up his boots. “Oh.” He didn’t know how to respond to that. “Thank you?” he tried. When he looked up, Luffy was grinning at him.

“You’re welcome.”

Law tried not to smile –  and failed terribly – and pulled on his coat. He was curious to know what connected Luffy to this Iceberg person, and how his drive to find Paulie was involved in all of this.  And maybe he was also a little hungry.

  


He listened to Luffy’ s babbling with half an ear while they walked. The other half of his attention was devoted to yet another spiral of thoughts.  He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be getting even closer to Luffy. He should tell him. He should just get this over with. He should finish this job and then never talk to him again.

“Hey, you listening to me?”

Dammit. “ Uh, yes. Zoro broke a glass over the guy’s head.” Bless his ability to multitask.

“I made him clean it up,” Luffy said. “Would’ve made the guy do it, but he was out cold.” He stopped for a moment and Law saw a smile spread on his face. “Oh, look, we’re here!”

  


The place was tiny. Law had almost expected a food truck, but it was a small hole-in-the-wall diner. Barely enough space for three tables inside, and another four smaller ones on the sidewalk. He imagined that most people took their food to go.

Not Luffy, though. He set down the thermos on one of the tables outside,  and Law realised he was just going to sit there, in the cold.

“Won’t they mind?” Law asked, instead of complaining, because he didn’t want to talk all the way back to his flat without eating, now that they had arrived.

Luffy shook his head. “I know the owner, he’s cool.” Then he walked up to the counter with a bright grin. “Hey, Hachi! The usual. And uh...” He looked at Law, and for a moment it looked like he was studying him.  His gaze swept up and down once, and Law felt very exposed, despite the several layers he was wearing. “One extra large kebab with fries.” He looked at Law again. “Onions?”

Law shrugged. “Sure.”

“It’ll be like… five minutes,” Hachi said and Luffy nodded.

“You got two cups?” he asked.

Hachi sighed, obviously used to this kind of request, and handed Luffy two plastic cups. “Just give me your coffee secret one of these days.”

“Nope!” Luffy grinned. “This is for tea, anyway!” He walked over to their table, Law in tow.

They sat down to wait for their food and Luffy unscrewed the thermos, filled  the cups with tea and put one in front of Law.  “ You’re really skinny,” Luffy said.

Law frowned at him.  It was a very straightforward, borderline rude remark. “I’m average,” he said.

“Have you been on a scale recently? You’ve definitely lost weight since we first met.”

“I’ve been skinnier,” Law said, the annoyance giving an edge to his words. He didn’t blame people for being concerned about him, but it grated on his nerves nonetheless. Made him feel guilty for things he couldn’t control – and things he could. Earlier he had thought Luffy was different.

He raised the cup of tea to his lips.

“I know it’s stressful, what you’re going through. Hell… stressful is too weak for the situation, but you know what I mean.” Luffy was gesturing and Law hoped he wouldn’t spill his own tea. “But you gotta take care of yourself, so you can kick ‘Mingos ass!”

“I thought I said no nicknames,” Law pressed out.

Luffy blinked and leaned back a little. “Sorry,” he then said and rubbed the back of his neck. “But my point still stands.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Law asked sharply. “Don’t you think I know I should be taking care of myself, with the way I look and the background I have? You don’t know shit about me!” He had started raising his voice but toned it down after he felt the looks of several people on him.

Luffy glared at him. “Then tell me,” he said. “We only just met, so of course I can’t know everything about you. But I know you well enough. You were going to be a doctor. Corazón is your brother. You have a past with Doflamingo that you would rather  not remember and are drinking to forget it while also doing your best to make it right, even though you did nothing wrong.”

Law recoiled. “Stop it!”  He was close to leaving. Luff y didn't understand boundaries, sometimes, and didn't seem keen on learning. Maybe because no one ever made him.  And Law wouldn’t be the one to teach him. But he stayed anyway.

Luffy eyed him, still with that fire in his eyes that betrayed his anger, but he shut up, and eventually his expression softened. “I mean it, though. I want to know you better.”  He rested his chin on his hand. “Maybe I’ll just start asking you questions.”

“Good luck with that,” Law grit out.

Thankfully Hachi called out for Luffy just then, signaling that their food was ready.  Luffy jumped up to go get it before Law could react, and he just opted to stay seated and took another sip of his tea.

When Luffy put his kebab in front of him, Law had to admit that it smelled nice, and his stomach growled in response.  Luffy had already started digging in, but somehow managed to hear Law’s stomach over the sounds of himself eating and gave him a ‘I told you so’ grin.

“Not a word,” Law said and started eating, too.

He wasn’t negating that he needed food. He just knew that sometimes he couldn’t stomach it, and sometimes he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“You wanted to tell me about Iceberg and the information he has,” Law said between bites. He had feared the original information outcome of this meeting would escape him during their fight, but things had calmed down again, thankfully.

“Oh, yeah!” Luffy made, and then immediately sobered. He had almost finished his food, and even pushed it to the side now, which was – from what Law had seen so far – a rare occurrence. “Well, uh, I may not have been as open with you as I should be.”

Law raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”  It wasn’t a surprise anymore now, but it was still unexpected to learn that Luffy of all people had been keeping secrets. He struck Law as the kind of person who didn’t keep things to himself, who was always open and honest. It was as if he had run right into a trap.

“It was kind of personal, and had nothing to do with you,” Luffy said, “but I probably should’ve told you anyway.” He took a deep breath and Law waited patiently. “Iceberg’s in politics, right? So he has all kinds of connections, and he uh… he has information about what happened to Ace… my brother. But he needed me to do a favor for him before he could give it to me, because he’s not supposed to give it out, and like… I probably could’ve gotten him to give it to me without the deal, but Paulie’s not a bad guy, and I don’t want him to be hurt, so I accepted anyway, and now I’m bound to it.”

Law could feel the anger rising in him with every word and he wasn’t sure if he was angry at himself, or at Luffy, he just knew that he was  _angry_ . He pushed the emotion down.

“You should have told me,” he said, consciously calm. He was not going to make this about him. He wasn’t going to show how afraid he was right now. It was irrational to be angry at Luffy. Luffy didn’t know. (Oh god, what if he found out.) “I get that it’s personal, but it’s relevant to the case. What if Paulie was targeted specifically because of his connection to Iceberg? What if this is all...” Connected. Law’s mind was immediately ready to go into crisis mode, to start down another irrational spiral of “What if this is all connected to Doflamingo?”.

It wasn’t. He was making it up. He had killed Ace, not Doflamingo, no matter what he told himself.

“I don’t think so,” Luffy said, “but you’re right I should have told you, which is why I did now, so-”

Law’s phone rang,  startling both himself and Luffy.  Luffy shut his mouth immediately as Law pulled his phone out of his pocket.

The number was unknown, but Law heaved a deep sigh and answered it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Uh, hey I’m calling because of the PS4 I won?” a voice said and Law flinched at the bad pronunciation of the th, but immediately adopted his peppy voice anyway. He covered the bottom of his phone with his hand so it wouldn’t be as obvious that he was outside.

“Hello! Paulie, right? We’ll get right on that. Do you wanna meet tomorrow?”

He agreed on a meeting place with the person on the other end, going through an excruciating minute of acting, before hanging up and turning to Luffy.

“Paulie doesn’t have a German accent, does he?”

Luffy shook his head. Law grinned.

The kidnappers had taken the bait.

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if you find any mistakes, typos or plot-wise, too. i rushed a bit and i have a memory like a sieve so i should definitely rearead my own fic ahaha


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand, we're back. A slight delay, but the chapter's a long one in exchange.

 

Law didn’t think that arranging a meeting for the very same day would seem as semi-professional as he was going for, so he had named the next day for the meeting.

This also provided him with time to prepare – and time to try and talk Luffy out of coming with him.

“It would really be better if you didn’t come,” Law said, for what seemed the hundredth time on their walk back to his apartment building.

“Two pairs of eyes see more than one,” Luffy said stubbornly. “Plus, you don’t have a car, and I bet those dudes have some way of getting around – and I have a motorcycle.”

Law set his jaw. “Damn you.”

Luffy grinned. “Come on.” He clearly knew he was winning the argument.

“Fine, but you know this could get violent, right?”

“Psh,” Luffy scoffed. “You know I was born for fights.”

“Not this kind of fight,” Law mumbled, but let it slide.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Luffy said. They had reached Law’s building. “I’ll pick you up an hour before. Sound good to you?”

Law shrugged. “Sure.”

He watched Luffy’s retreating back for a moment, dread pooling in his stomach at his mistake, before he went inside.

 

 

 

It wasn’t too late in the day yet when Tsuru called.

“I got the pills for Rebecca,” she said, and Law picked up the sounds of traffic around her. “Although I suspect it would be better if _you_ delivered them to her and not me.”

Law was out of his chair before Tsuru had finished her sentence. “Damn right it would,” Law said. As much as he didn’t want anything to do with the situation, it was his responsibility, and he had gotten Tsuru involved without Rebecca’s approval in the first place. “Where are you?”

“You can meet me at the offices,” she said. “Or at the prison, if you prefer.”

“The prison is fine,” Law said. He didn’t want to have to do the hour round trip to the lawyer’s office and then have to go to the prison from there, when Tsuru had a very capable driver and a car.

She sighed. “I’ll meet you there.”

 

It was almost rush hour, which meant Law spent his subway ride squished between office workers and university students and his sweating caused by the heat and his coat was not eased by his anxiety.

When he finally shoved through all the people to get out of the train and emerged out of the underground station, he took a deep breath. The cold winter air stung in his lungs, but it was better than the thick heat downstairs, devoid of any oxygen.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking towards the prison.

Tsuru was waiting for him out front, looking incredibly put together even in the cold. Law became intensely aware of his ratty, six year old coat. But it was the best he had, and she would have to deal with it.

He stopped a good five feet away from her. “Hey.”

“Hello, Trafalgar,” she said and Law grimaced.

“You got it?”

She rolled her eyes. “You make this sound much worse than it is.”

Law didn’t have the patience for this. He simply stretched out his left hand and didn’t reply anything. Tsuru looked at him for a moment, then sighed and opened her purse, dropping a small paper bag into his outstretched hand.

“I’ll come in with you, but I won’t be seeing Rebecca if she doesn’t want me to,” she said.

It was probably the best Law could have hoped for.

“Alright,” he said and walked towards the entrance.

 

Rebecca was waiting for him, and Law felt a pang of guilt at how long she had been waiting, even though it hadn’t been that long at all. But it had been too long altogether, and she had been through too much to wait any more.

“I got you something,” Law said and handed her the paper bag. Her gaze flitted from the bag to Law.

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “Take the Mifepristone first, then the misoprostol,” he said as she opened the bag.

“Is Tsuru here?” she asked, looking up.

Law sighed and nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

She swallowed the first pill, dry, even though there was a glass of water standing on her bedside table. Law cringed. He suppressed the urge to tell her how wrong that was on so many levels.

“It’ll be uncomfortable, but you’ll get through it,” he said instead, and watched her for any immediate changes, even though he knew all too well that nothing would happen now, or in the next five minutes. “And please tell the nurses if it’s too much, they’ve dealt with shit like this before.”

“Like hell I will,” she mumbled.

“They’ll find out anyway.”

She stared at him for a while, her face unreadable, before digging the second pill out of the container. “Good.”

He just stood there and hoped that maybe this would bring her a sliver of peace, a _little_ light in the bleakness of her fate.

“Can you leave?” Rebecca finally asked. “I’d like to be alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright,” Law said. “But you know how to reach me.”

He didn’t smile at her, didn’t give her any more platitudes, because she wouldn’t appreciate them.

He met Tsuru outside on the corridor, talking to a nurse quietly. He waited out of earshot until she was done.

“You told her?” he asked.

“I did,” she said. “They should be prepared.”

“I hope she’s of the non-judgmental kind.”

“She works in a prison infirmary, I think she knows what she’s doing,” Tsuru said.

Law knew that there was always levels to this, and knowing what you were doing as a doctor didn’t always make you qualified to know what you were doing with actual people. There were too many cruel people involved in medicine, and not enough kind people to combat them.

He left, then, and tried not to think about Rebecca.

 

 

All his avoidance didn’t work, and he barely slept that night, wondering what kind of pain she was in, wondering if it had been the right decision to leave her alone, wondering if she would feel better in the morning.

He got up early (or early for his standards, at least), showered, forewent breakfast and started putting together his things for their inevitable confrontation today.

He packed his cheaper camera – expendable in case it came to a confrontation, good enough to collect evidence in case it came to a court case – and then his hand hovered over his thermos, hesitating.

Just then his doorbell rang. Luffy really had impeccable timing.

He left it standing on the table and turned to leave, grabbing his coat from the hook in the wall. He put it on and pulled the door shut behind him.

When he was locking his door, he heard another door open behind him and when he turned, he saw Bepo standing in the hallway.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” Law greeted.

“Haven’t seen you in a couple days. Where are you heading?”

“A case,” Law said.

Bepo raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright?”

Law rolled his eyes. “I have to be, right?”

“You’ve been holed up in there,” Bepo said, motioning at his door. “You should really come to the self help group with me.”

“Over my dead body,” Law said. “Talking about my feelings is quite literally the last thing I want to do right now.”

Bepo looked like he wanted to protest but Law only shook his head. “I gotta go.”

 

He arrived downstairs to Luffy leaning on his motorcycle in front of the entrance. He grinned. “Torao!”

“Sorry, Bepo held me up,” Law said.

“No worries,” Luffy said and grinned, “I was early anyway, for once. Hop on.”

Law had selected a seedy betting office three blocks away as the meeting place, and he could have just walked there, but then Luffy would have asked stupid questions. Especially because Law had already been on the motorcycle once before, so there was no reason to not ride it now.

So he grit his teeth and accepted the second helmet from Luffy once again. He put it on and then slid onto the seat behind Luffy.

At least this time he would be able to hold on with both arms – although he wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

A curse, he decided as he put his hands on Luffy’s sides. Fuck, this was very much the opposite of what he wanted. He barely had his memories of the last time he had been on this exact bike, but this brought them back.

“Ready?” Luffy called and started the engine.

“Yeah, go,” Law said before he would just get off the damn thing again.

He wished he didn’t have to touch Luffy. He wished he didn’t want to.

Still, he spent the ten minutes hugging Luffy’s back a little closer than was technically necessary. But Luffy drove fast, and passed cars very closely, and took corners sharply. It was just for safety.

(Or maybe it wasn’t as scary as Law told himself, and the vibrations of both the bike under him and Luffy’s breathing and laughter in front of him were kind of calming.)

Thankfully they arrived quickly.

Luffy parked the motorcycle in front of a café across the street from the betting office and then looked at Law expectantly, who rolled his eyes – with a certain amount of fondness, to his horror – and nudged him into the direction of the cafe’s entrance.

He hadn’t wanted to introduce Luffy to the world of his job like this, but oh well.

It was relatively empty, so Law picked a table at the window with a good view of the building across the street. They sat down. Law debated if he should take off his jacket while Luffy was already shrugging off his, but the café was very warm and he would probably start sweating if he wore his coat for longer than necessary. So he took it off.

For some reason, Luffy had brought sandwiches, and sweets, even though this wasn’t even a stakeout that would take longer than an hour.

Law had the suspicion that Luffy wanted to fatten him up.

Of course they weren’t supposed to eat them in the café, and Law ordered a coffee just to get the waitress off his back, but Luffy handed him one of the sandwiches anyway.

“Come on, I bet you didn’t have breakfast.”

Damn him. Law took it and took a tentative bite.

Luffy grinned at him. “Sanji actually made these, he was over for breakfast today before heading to work.”

Damn this kid and his talented friends.

 

Law was almost done with his sandwich, looking outside even though it was still almost thirty minutes to their designated meeting time, when Luffy piped up again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Law was sure he would regret this, but he said it anyway. “What is it?” He picked up his coffee to take a sip.

“What are these?” Luffy asked, his hand hovering over the marks on Law’s arm, peeking out from under the cuffs of his shirt, and Law put down his cup with a clank.

“I was sick,” he said, his words clipped – but he knew Luffy would keep asking anyway.

“Oh...,” Luffy made. “How sick?”

Law closed his eyes for a moment. Maybe it had been so long, long enough that people had forgotten. Not the city, of course, never the city, not a tragedy like this, but _people_ were happy to forget horrors and especially man-made catastrophes – and other people – if they hadn't been directly affected. It was easier to erase than remember. Law was just glad he had never become famous for being the only survivor – lying low and hiding from the authorities with Sengoku and Corazón’s help had left their marks just as much as the disease had.

Maybe Luffy wouldn’t know about Flevance.

“I almost died,” he answered.

But could he take the chance of being shunned once again?

Luffy looked at him for a moment before he smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

And that was that. No more questions. It felt almost weird.

They were quiet for a minute, and Law wished that he could just leave, but he was stuck here with Luffy until their mark showed up.

“You know what’s funny?” Luffy asked then, out of the blue. “I’m kind of afraid of what’s going to happen. Not with _this_ , I know this is gonna turn out fine, but with the info that Iceberg has...”

Law shivered a little.

“Like, I need closure, I think. And maybe this is gonna help, because nothing about this adds up.”

“What do you mean?”

He should not have asked. He should have let it go. He should not dig deeper into wounds that both of them bore. (But maybe that was why he had to.)

It was odd to see Luffy hesitate. Maybe he did have reservations after all. Maybe he didn’t trust unconditionally, as Law had thought previously. Good.

“After Ace…,” Luffy started again then. “After Ace died I found this letter he had written to me… Instructions, I guess. About something he had buried under the foundation of a building, super close to where he got killed, and Franky works.” He paused again, but Law already knew what the next part of the story was. “But when I got there to check it out, whatever had been there was gone. Cement broken up and everything. And like… his death was supposedly an accident, right? It just… doesn’t make sense.”

Of course it hadn’t been there anymore, because _Law_ had dug it up, cutting through the cement with his powers, exhausting himself so much in the process that he had sat on the ground for five minutes after he was done, with Doflamingo standing next to him impatiently.

“ _You need to learn endurance,” he had said, voice sharp._

“ _Yes,” Law had said. “I will.”_

“It really doesn’t,” he forced himself to say to Luffy.

“Maybe I’ll find some answers,” Luffy said.

He most definitely would. And neither of them would like what he found.

Law felt overwhelmed with the realization that he should tell Luffy now, before it was too late, before the situation was taken out of his hands. But the outcome would be the same, and that made Law hesitate.

He felt his throat closing up with panic, when across the street he saw someone entering the betting place for the first time in the last twenty minutes. He straightened up.

“You think that’s him?” Luffy asked.

Law nodded and watched through the windows as the guy talked to the clerk. An angry but short conversation ensued before he left again.

“Well, there he goes,” Law said. “That’s our cue.” He got up and grabbed his coat.

He dropped some money in the tip jar at the till on the way out and then followed Luffy to the motorcycle as the man across the street got back into a waiting car, with another person at the wheel.

“You up for a good old-fashioned car chase?” Law asked as he strapped the helmet back on.

Luffy grinned broadly. “I was born ready.”

Law rolled his eyes but got onto the motorcycle anyway.

What a dork.

 

It was less of a chase and more discreet following – as discreet as they could, on a motorcycle – since they didn’t want these people to know they were onto them.

They tracked them to an old industrial area at the edge of the city, which took almost an hour, and waited next to an abandoned parking lot as the car ahead of them pulled into the lot in front of a warehouse.

Luffy mumbled something that Law didn’t catch over the sound of the engine.

“What was that?”

“This doesn’t bode well,” Luffy repeated, louder. Then he just shut off the engine altogether.

“Could be human trafficking,” Law guessed, “or drugs.”

“Fuck, I hope it’s drugs.”

Law grimaced and slid off the seat. “Never thought I’d hear you say _that_.”

They left the bike there, obscured behind the corner against the equally dark wall of another warehouse, and hurried across the street to the back entrance of the warehouse the two men in the car had disappeared into.

Soon they were standing in front of a door. A locked door.

“I could punch it open?” Luffy offered. “Won’t hurt me a bit.”

“No, that would make too much noise,” Law said, “and too much of a mess. Hold on.” He dug around in his bag. He had lock picks – he didn’t need them very often, but he kept him on his person just in case.

He bent down in front of the lock. It looked like it had been changed recently, but still didn’t seem more like a standard lock, and he didn’t see anything that indicated more bolts on the inside of the door. Additionally, it had simply fallen shut after the two men had entered. He grinned. This was easy.

He stretched out his senses, feeling the pins inside the lock. He pushed them in the right position and the door opened with a click a moment later.

“You didn’t even use the lock picks,” Luffy pointed out and Law blinked, drawing back.

“Oh,” he made.

He had used his devil fruit powers out of pure instinct, and the realization made him grimace. His powers felt alien to him, even after having been a part of him for most of his life.

“That was so cool,” Luffy said.

“Not really,” Law said and pushed the door open. He didn’t like using his powers and avoided them whenever possible. For things like this, it was alright – hence the way it seemed to already have bled into his habits – but when it concerned humans, he had lost control too many times to trust himself. It must seem odd for someone like Luffy, who was one being with his powers, who relied on them daily and had grown to love them.

“You can do more than you let one, can’t you?” Luffy asked quietly as they went through the door.

They entered a dimly lit, narrow hallway.

“Obviously,” Law mumbled, slowly creeping forward.

“You removed that bullet from your shoulder the same way, didn’t you?” Luffy asked. “You can control things in a certain radius?”

Law flinched a little. He didn’t like it when people described it like that, even though it was the truth. “Yeah. I manipulate stuff.”

He wasn’t about to tell him that he cut people up.

“What else can you do?” Luffy asked. “How far is your reach? Can you fly?”

“I… uh… could substitute myself with other things and kind of… teleport,” Law said, finally realising that Luffy wouldn’t stop answering questions. “Don’t know if I can still do it. I don’t like… using my powers.”

“Oh,” Luffy made. “Why not? You’re really powerful.”

“That’s exactly why,” Law said and, as they came to a bend in the hallway, held up his finger to his lips to indicate silence.

They had finally reached the main room, and when they entered it, the building’s use became evident immediately.

“Ah, it’s just weed,” Luffy said happily.

“God, you’re so weird,” Law mumbled as he peeked around a corner.

“What? There’s worse things than marijuana. Heroin. Guns. People.”

Law rolled his eyes. “I know. Doesn’t mean that the people here work under the greatest conditions.”

“Hm,” Luffy made, shuffling alongside Law. “True.”

The room seemed empty, obviously not tended to right now, and Law stepped into it fully, straightening up. He had barely relaxed his posture slightly when he heard a growl behind him.

“Aw, fuck.”

“Dogs!” Luffy exclaimed excitedly.

“You can’t be serious.” Law didn’t take his eyes off of the animals approaching them. How could Luffy be excited about seeing them? They were Dobermänner, three of them, large and muscular despite their lankness. And Law wasn’t immune to teeth – and Luffy probably wasn’t either, if they just bit hard enough.

Still, Law didn’t like the thought of having to take apart these dogs, however temporary it might be. Additionally it would drain his energy, but he didn’t even want to think of the alternative.

Luffy stepped in front of him and slowly approached the animals.

“What are you doing?” Law hissed.

“Animals like me,” Luffy said, not looking at Law, his hand just the slightest bitoutstretched at his side. “Trust me.”

Law really didn’t like this.

“Hey boys,” Luffy said, his voice suddenly changed, much softer and less confrontational. “How you doing? You can smell me, huh? I know we don’t belong here, but we’re not here to hurt anyone, I promise.”

Law watched as Luffy approached the dogs, who were still growling. The middle ones ears and tail were twitching, however.

“I’ve got some meat here, but you’re probably not gonna take it, hm? You’re very well trained boys. Not gonna take any poisoned meat. Not that mine is poisoned, but other people’s might be...”

The dog in the middle took a step forward, and Law automatically tensed up even more. The other two stopped growling.

Law could only see a sliver of Luffy’s profile as he continued to slowly approach the dogs, but his smile was wide enough to be seen even so.

“There’s my good boys,” he said. “You’re nice, aren’t you? You wanna smell my hand? I’m a friend. Come on.”

Finally, the middle dog stepped up and slightly sniffed Luffy’s hand. The other two followed suit, and Law could not believe it. Getting dogs specially trained to guard their turf to be your friends when you had literally broken into the facility they were supposed to guard was literally impossible. What kind of other talents did Luffy possess?

“Aw, you’re perfect,” Luffy cooed. “Are you gonna sit for me?”

And the dog did.

“What a good puppy!” Luffy cheered, albeit quietly, and ran his hand over the dog’s coat. “What a perfect baby. Aww, you could use some brushing though. They’re not treating you right, are they? No they aren’t.”

“That’s amazing,” Law mumbled quietly, but Luffy caught it anyway.

Luffy smiled at him and Law had the impulse to smile back, blinded by him. Luffy was a light.

The thought startled him, and he pushed it away, reality snapping back into place like a door shutting loudly.

“We should keep going,” he said, “find Paulie and get out of here.”

Luffy sighed and straightened up. “Alright. Let’s go.”

For a moment Law considered asking him to lock up the dogs, but it seemed pointless and cruel. Instead he took Luffy’s arm, because he seemed reluctant to leave.

“I wish we could take them with us,” Luffy said and looked back again.

“Feel free to come back once we have gotten Paulie out of here,” Law said. They couldn’t slow themselves down with some dogs, not right now.

Luffy finally picked up speed. “I might just do that.”

Of course he would.

They kept walking through the warehouse, and Luffy picked up their conversation where they had left off, when Law had already been trying to forget all about it.

“Is that why you wanted to become a doctor? You could really help a lot of people with those powers.”

Law really, really didn’t want to talk about this.

But he found himself speaking before he could think better of it. “My parents were doctors, so I always wanted to become one, too,” he said, “and yeah, with my Devil Fruit… I could have been a hero, so to speak. Didn’t work out that way in the end. I did too much bad shit to get canceled out by the good I tried to do. It wasn’t worth it.”

Luffy frowned at him. “No one is purely good, or evil. Everyone’s got both going on. It’s about your choices.”

Well, Law was the king of making bad choices.

They passed another room with plants that were currently being harvested, several people at work, and he shushed Luffy, happy about the reminder of where they were. They quickly hurried past the open doorway before they could be seen.

“What if he was in there?” Luffy whispered.

“Working?” Law asked. “I doubt it. They’ll have him somewhere secluded where he can’t talk to other people.”

Finally they snuck past what had to be the packing station of the entire operation – empty except for one person sealing plastic bags.

“This is getting tiring,” Law whispered. “Plus we haven’t seen the guys we followed here, so they’re likely holed up somewhere in some re-purposed office.”

“Don’t worry,” Luffy said, carefree as ever, “we’ll find Paulie. And if the assholes find us first, we have our fists.”

That was awfully optimistic. Law preferred to not fight close up, and he didn’t have a real weapon.

They did come upon an office, but it seemed to be empty. Law nudged the door open with his foot and Luffy stuck his head in. “Ah, look who’s here!”

Law followed him into the room, and, considering that the guy sitting bound to a chair at the far wall looked an awful lot like the picture on his driver’s license, assumed it was Paulie.

“We’ve come to rescue you,” Luffy announced cheerfully and removed the gag from Paulie’s face.

The man grimaced. “You have no idea what you’ve done, don’t you?”

“Nope,” Luffy said and then turned to Law. “You got a knife?”

“I kind of have an idea,” Law mumbled and then dug into his bag to hand Luffy his iridescent folding knife.

Luffy opened it and then looked at it in confusion for a moment. “That’s fancy,” he said.

“It’s a tactical folding knife,” Law said. “It was a gift. Get on with it.”

“You can’t be here,” Paulie urged as Luffy cut the ropes around his torso, then the ones around his legs. “They’re gonna kill you when they find you… Or worse, make you stay here.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Law said. Now that they had found him he was more concerned with two things, and the first of it was how to get him out of here.

“How did you end up here?” Luffy asked.

“Does it matter?” Paulie asked.

“Yes,” Law and Luffy said at the same time.

Paulie looked between them and sighed as Luffy finally cut the ropes around his wrists. “I tried getting into this operation, you know, for some cash. Only I got greedy, ‘cause that’s what I do, and I stole from them, and I couldn’t pay it back, ‘cause I never can.” Law withstood the urge to roll his eyes. “So they were gonna keep me as a slave, I guess, to make me work off the debt, or keep me forever, maybe...”

“Standard bullshit, then,” Law said and watched Paulie rub his wrists. “They didn’t want anything from Iceberg?”

Paulie frowned up at him. “Nah, don’t even think they knew about him.”

“Good,” Law said and abruptly grabbed Paulie by the arms to hoist him up. “Come on, let’s go.”

Thankfully Paulie hadn’t been roughed up too much, so he could walk on his own. Law kept a hand on him anyways, so he wouldn’t get any ideas and try to bolt.

Luffy threw Law’s knife back to him and he caught it gratefully. He would probably need it.

They had agreed to find the front entrance and then find their way back to the parking lot from there. Law wasn’t sure how they would transport Paulie on the bike, and it was a grave oversight that he hadn’t considered it until now.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Luffy said with a shrug when he brought it up. “Maybe one of us will have to stay behind.”

Considering how Law had never driven a motorcycle and he was not the one with the obvious stakes in this, the dice would fall on him. And he couldn’t let that happen. He ignored the thought. They had to get out of here first.

Despite their carefulness and their relatively quiet footsteps, they didn’t make it very far.

They rounded a corner and suddenly, the two guys from the car were standing in front of them.

“Ah, see! I knew I heard the dogs,” one of them said and as grin spread on his face as he leveled a gun at the three of them.

The other one scoffed. “How’d they not tear them to shreds?”

“It’s because they’re fucking useless, man! We’re gonna have to get rid of them.”

“Don’t you dare,” Luffy growled.

Law sighed. Of course he was more concerned with the dogs than their own fates. He wished he was standing next to Luffy, instead of having Paulie in-between them. “Let’s get out of here,” he hissed. He could make quick work of these guys, although he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

“Sure thing,” Luffy said and stretched out his arm, snatching the gun right of the man’s hand. “Mine now.”

“What the _fuck_!?”

Luffy laughed and checked the gun’s safety, making sure it was off before throwing it to Law. “Here, you probably have more use for it.”

Law’s fingers clenched around the gun. What was he supposed to do with this? He didn’t regard it for long, shoved it deep into his satchel instead. Fuck that.

Instead he opened his palm, concentrating, and summoned a Room.

He didn’t want to hurt these assholes. Scaring them was enough.

“I suggest you get out of our way,” he said, slowly, carefully, deliberately, as his Room spread over the two of them.

“Yeah, you’ve seen what we can do,” Luffy grinned, cracking his knuckles.

“Fuck, both of them have powers,” asshole number one said. And despite his contempt for his powers, Law couldn’t deny that he liked feeling powerful. He liked the expression that crossed people’s faces when they realized they had fucked with the wrong person.

“I don’t have my weapon,” asshole number two said, sounding desperate.

“Use your fucking fists,” the other one yelled.

“I’m not paid enough for this. We should call for backup.”

“Get out of our way or I’m gonna have to knock you out,” Luffy said, raising his fists to eye level.

They still seemed hesitant, standing in the middle of the corridor and blocking their way. Law looked at Luffy and Luffy looked right back. He sighed. “Do your thing,” he said.

And Luffy grinned, and let both of his fists shoot forward, knocking the two men out effectively.

“Well, that was easy. We should’ve done that from the start,” Paulie said.

“’We’ didn’t do anything,” Law hissed. “Especially not _you_.” He dragged Paulie along with them.

They had given up any pretense at sneaking now that they had been discovered. They didn’t know if there was any more people in the building than the two they had just encountered and the gaggle of workers, who hopefully wouldn’t provide too much of a problem.

Law decided to abandon their plan of finding the front entrance and just started hurrying in the direction they had come from originally, since it was their safest bet.

They ran past the people harvesting, who had gathered around the doorway, but seemed too terrified to do anything.

He had been expecting to meet the dogs again, but what he hadn’t thought of was suddenly standing in front of three debt collectors.

“Ah, fuck,” Paulie swore. “How did you find me?”

“We tracked this one’s phone,” Bryan said and waved at Law.

Law groaned. He was an idiot. He should have planned for this, he should have given the loan sharks false information, he should have done _something_ , instead of just ignoring them.

“You didn’t call them?” Luffy yelled, high-pitched and affronted.

“Why the fuck would I have done that?” Law asked, raising his arm to create a Room. “I don’t have money to pay his debt, and they’re not my problem.”

“You made a deal _with them_!”

“I’m not very good at keeping my promises!”

Luffy didn’t say anything after that, and Law very deliberately avoided looking at him. Instead, he pulled out his knife.

“Get out of my way, or I swear you won’t see your hands for a very, very long time.” Well, maybe about fifteen minutes, but that did not sound as menacing.

“You want to fight these guys with a _pocket knife_?” Luffy hissed.

„Well, sorry I didn't have time to steal a scalpel on the way. I don't see you having any weapons, either.“

“I have these,” Luffy said, holding up his fists. “And my feet, too, actually. But we shouldn’t-”

“You promised us money, and we’re here to get it,” Ryan said, effectively interruption them.

“Well,” Law said, his hands already itching for the fight he had wanted to avoid only minutes ago, “you’re not gonna get it. So get out of our way or get fucked.”

“That’s awfully rude.”

Law was ready to cut them apart simply for how annoying they were being. His Room shimmered as he raised his knife and made a slashing motion. Ryan’s head separated from his body.

He screamed, loudly, and Law grinned. “Are you gonna let us pass now?”

Gotty and Bryan seemed nervous, at least. “What is this?” Gotty asked. “What kind of _hell power_?”

“That about sums it up,” Law mumbled, moving his hand again and cutting off Gotty’s hands. “Come on, don’t make it worse for yourselves.” He made Ryan’s head float over to him, catching it in his hand.

They looked terrified now. Good. He could feel the power he usually suppressed rising in himself. Should he cut off Bryan’s feet? Separate him length-wise. It would be interesting, at least, and effectively embarrass him and get him out of the way.

“Torao, _stop_!”

Law’s concentration waned, his Room flickering and Ryan’s head dropping to the ground. There had been a command in Luffy’s voice, an invisible force trying to cut off Law’s powers.

Law stood frozen for a second, before whirling around. “ _What_?” he snarled.

Luffy was staring at him, wide-eyed but determined. “This isn’t you.”

“You don’t know me,” Law yelled, accentuating every word. Rage welled up in him and he turned back to his three opponents, just aware enough to not turn it against Luffy.

“Law, _stop it!_ ”

There it was again, and this time it made Law drop his Room completely.

“Fuck!” He couldn’t believe this. What kind of power was this? His limbs felt heavy, and he had to fight both nausea and anger at being controlled like this again. “Do you not want them to go away?”

With his Room down, the lost body parts shot back to their owners.

“Yes, but not like this!” Luffy shot back. “Not with you losing yourself.”

“I’m losing myself because you’re doing that to me,” Law yelled.

Luffy’s mouth hung open in a silent O and he took a step back, obviously hit by that remark. Right then, three more guys rounded the corner.

“They called for fucking reinforcements!”

He thought about summoning another Room, but his arms wouldn’t make the right movements, and he didn’t want to give Luffy incentive to do whatever the fuck that was again. He tasted bile in the back of his throat.

How could Luffy do this? How could he become like _him_?

“You deal with them then,” he growled at Luffy and pushed him into the swarming debt collectors. Then he grabbed Paulie’s arm and dragged him backwards. “I swear, if you resist I will cut you to pieces.”

Paulie, thankfully, did not protest in the slightest, as they raced back towards the offices.

Law only looked back for a second, to make sure that the men and Luffy were keeping each other busy. For a moment, his and Luffy’s eyes met.Law turned, and rushed onward.

There had to be a fire exit somewhere.

Had there been fear in Luffy’s eyes?

 

The second thing Law had been concerned with had been how to get Paulie away from Luffy long enough to bring him to Iceberg on his own, to get the information intended for Luffy, so Luffy wouldn’t know. Luffy couldn’t know.

But now he didn’t have to worry anymore.

It was cowardly, and it was another betrayal in a long row of such, but Law couldn’t bear anything else. And with the discovery of Luffy’s new power, he didn’t even feel guilty about it. If they were going to betray each other, they were going to do it right.

He found an exit, finally, dragging Paulie into the muted sunlight of the afternoon.

“Shouldn’t we-?” Paulie started but Law interrupted him before he could get any further.

“Shut up. Help me look for a car.” He only let him go reluctantly, but his hand was starting to hurt, and he was sure that Paulie’s arm had to be the same.

They went around the building, and Law had almost resigned himself to the fact that they would end up where he and Luffy had started earlier, until they spotted a car.

“You ever stolen one?” Law asked.

“No,” Paulie replied, and frowned. When he saw Law’s look, he added: “I’ve tried, though.”

“Alright, let’s get to work. Can’t be very hard.”

Law created another Room, and opened the car’s lock without a lot of fuss. Starting the engine was a bigger issue, he didn’t have the technical knowledge for his powers to be of much use.

Thankfully, Paulie either had more experience in hotwiring cars than he let on, or his time working with Franky and Iceberg had paid off. The car started within minutes, and Law pushed Paulie into the passenger seat.

“Tell me how to get to Iceberg,” Law said, and shut the door, pushing down on the gas pedal.

He had to get out of here.

He had to not think about how Luffy’s face morphed into Doflamingo’s whenever he was unoccupied for too long. He couldn’t think about the way his stomach felt like its contents had been turned into tar.

He had to drive.

 

They made it to Iceberg’s house in record time. Law was sure he had broken several speed limits and a few traffic laws on the way, but the car was stolen already, so he didn’t give a damn.

The house was relatively small for the neighborhood it was situated in, but Law was sure that the interior was just as lavish as the others, and that Iceberg had a second house somewhere. Because that’s how it always was.

He nudged Paulie towards the entrance. “Let’s go.”

They rang the doorbell.

Iceberg himself came to the door, and Law recognized him from the pictures he had seen online, too. At first his face lit up when he saw Paulie, then his eyes fell to Law and the empty space next to him and a frown etched into his face.

“Where’s Luffy?”

“He got held up,” Law said, before Paulie could get the idea to blurt out the truth. “He’s alright, nothing major, but he wanted me to get this one to you as quickly as possible.” He slightly pushed Paulie.

Iceberg sighed. “Come in.” He didn’t seem fully convinced, but Law would talk himself out of this – or rather, _into_ this – as he usually did.

They followed Iceberg into his study, where he took an envelope from a locked drawer in his desk.

“I really don’t know if I can give it to you,” Iceberg said. “I should call Luffy first...”

Law shrugged. “Feel free, but his battery was empty last time I saw him. You know how he is.” He slightly stretched out his hands. “I’ll get it to him as soon as possible, believe me.”

Iceberg still looked hesitant, his gaze flickering between Paulie and Law, but finally he took a step closer to hand the envelope to Law.Law took a relieved breath, his fingertips almost touching the information that damned him.

There were angry footsteps on the stairs, Iceberg snatched back the envelope on instinct just as Law’s hand was about to close, and then Luffy burst into the room. “Don’t you _dare_!”

Law froze in place, ice coursing through his veins. Apparently his head start had not been as big as he had thought.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* sorry?
> 
>  
> 
> RLT, BLS just officially broke the 100k word mark. This is incredible. Thank you all for sticking with me for so long. <3
> 
> We're also about halfway through the story, so you're going to have to deal with me for another 2 years or so, in true One Piece fashion. :P


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've had this done for a bit but kept forgetting to upload it here (it's been on my patreon for almost a week) because school just started again and it's... been an adjustment. i'm glad to hang out with my friends again though.
> 
> content warnings for this chapter include a little more than the usual amount of alcohol, discussions of death (and some suicidal ideation) and uh... more death? It's a dark chapter, y'all.

 

Law didn’t know how he was going to get out of this.

Plus, he didn’t know if he wanted to.  Maybe it was time to stop running.

Iceberg’s gaze jumped from Law to Luffy and back again as Luffy stepped closer.

“Give it to me,” he said, his hand outstretched, and Iceberg complied instantly.

“Please,” Law said, and he didn’t even know what he was pleading for. What point was there in bargaining and lying anymore?

But in the end all he could do was stand there as Luffy opened the envelope and pulled out a folder. He opened it and his eyes ran over the lines printed on the thin paper.

It took almost an eternity until he raised his head again, and Law was sure that he was about to get hit with the worst look of his life, but Luffy directed his gaze at Iceberg.

“He was drunk?” he asked, his voice brimming with anger.

The bus driver.  The bus driver who had hit Ace. The bus driver whose bus Law had pushed Ace in front of to cover up his actions.  The bus driver who had never been charged.

Law was almost relieved. Of course an official report wouldn’t say anything about him. No official report knew about Doflamingo, because he didn’t want them to know, and they didn’t want to, either.

Iceberg nodded. “He was suspended for a while, but didn’t get charged with anything.”

“He’s still _driving_?” Luffy asked after another look at the folder. He was now shaking with anger and Law almost took a step back. He caught Paulie’s eyes who was looking confused and almost… sympathetic. He probably hadn’t thought his day would turn out like this, either.

“He is,” Iceberg said. “The department and the city didn’t want a huge scandal and investigation, so they...” He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, Luffy did it for him.

“They covered it up!” He slammed the folder down on the desk and Law had never seen him so angry. He wondered what it would be like to have that anger directed at him.

Law refrained from making a comment about the corrupt justice system of the country. It wouldn’t help. And it would pull the attention of everyone in the room back to him.

“Luffy,” Iceberg started, but Luffy ignored him.

“I’m going to talk to him!” he growled. “I’m going to kick his ass. I need to...” They never got to know what he needed, because he didn’t even finish his sentence, and just stormed out, his footfalls even louder on the stairs now.

“Luffy, no!” Iceberg made a half-hearted attempt at following him, but he knew he would never catch up to him.

“It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it,” Paulie mumbled.

“Not you, too!” Iceberg snapped. “You’re in enough trouble as is.”

And Law… Law felt even guiltier than he had before.

  


  


He couldn’t shake the feeling even as he left the house, his job done, his payment already received. It wouldn’t leave even after he made a stop at a corner store and got himself something to drink.

He wondered if Luffy had already found the poor soul who had run over his already dead brother. He wondered if tomorrow he would be begging Tsuru to represent Luffy in an assault lawsuit.

He was just standing in the street now, his grip hard around the bottle, frozen, not knowing what to do.  This wasn’t his fight. But it was his responsibility.

He had killed Ace, and he shouldn’t let some poor asshole who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time pay for it. It wasn’t right. But when had he ever done the right thing?

Finally he ground his teeth and grabbed his phone with his free hand. He couldn’t let this happen.

So he called the first of Luffy’s friends he had met. He called Robin.  Because she was the only one he knew who would be able to help him without asking too many questions, and without judging him from the  getgo .

He had never used the number she had given him way back when, and he doubted she had saved his, so he really hoped she answered calls from unknown numbers. It rang for almost an eternity, before she finally accepted the call.

“Hello?”

Law almost let out a relieved breath. “Hello, Nico Robin? It’s Trafalgar Law, I’m not sure if you remember me...”  It had been a while since they had talked.

“Of course I do. What’s going on?”

“I need your help,” he said. “Do you know where Luffy is?”

“Last I heard he was going out on a case with you,” she said, and he could hear the frown in her voice. “Did something happen?”

“He found out the bus driver who… hit his brother was drunk while on the job and I’m afraid he’s going to do something stupid.” There was no time to explain everything, and at least this wasn’t a lie. Not completely.

“Oh no,” Robin breathed. 

That pretty much summed it up.  “Yeah.”

“Where are you?” Robin asked.

“A couple blocks away from Icebergs house,” Law said. “I can come by your place.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s do that. Uh… can we find out where the driver is now?”

“He’s most likely working, but I guess I could call the department to find out?”

“You know, I think it would actually be faster if I called Iceberg and told him to get the info, he knows me and has the necessary connections,” Robin said and Law had to agree. That was definitely the best and fastest course of actions.

“That sounds good,” he said. “I’ll see you in half an hour.” He hung up.

He still felt frantic. He didn’t know what to do. Luffy could already be getting himself into a pointless fight with an innocent person. Law had already tried calling him, but Luffy wasn’t answering his phone. Stupid, stubborn, rash asshole.

Law hadn’t wanted this.

All he did was mess things up, and there were so many wrongs to right he didn’t know where to start. Maybe with this one.

  


When he arrived at Robin’s apartment building she was already waiting for him outside.  He was glad he had left the half empty whiskey bottle in a random park. Someone would pick it up,  and he could be spared her pitying looks.

“We’re lucky,” she said in lieu of a greeting. “The driver works today, but he doesn’t start until 6pm.” Law sighed in relief. “Now, here comes the kicker,” Robin continued, pulling on her gloves, “he still drives the same route.”

Law grimaced. That would only set off Luffy even worse.

“You think we can intercept Luffy?” he asked.

She shook her head. “There’s no way of knowing where he is right now. But I have a pretty good idea of where he’s going.”

So did Law. Luffy didn’t strike him as the sentimental kind, but definitely as a man on a mission of vengeance, and what better than to go back to the place where the unspeakable act had happened?

Law was going to have to go back to the place where he had killed Ace.

“Let’s go,” he mumbled. It was already getting dark, and while the warehouse district was at the late end of the route, Law wanted to get there as early as possible.

Robin’s neighbor had a car that they could borrow, and Law learned that Robin could be a ferocious driver when need be.

Of course, traffic didn’t permit going over the speed limit for long. At some point, it didn’t allow any driving at all, anymore, and they were stuck.

Law’s leg was shaking again and Robin kept looking at him between keeping an eye on traffic. “Do you really think it’s that bad?” she asked.

“You know him better than me,” Law said.

“He’s surprisingly level headed, usually,” she said and steered into a gap between two cars. They had moved about three meters. “But when it’s about his family and friends… And this was his brother. He loved him to death. Still does. It says a lot that he’s charging in without telling any of us.”

Law kept quiet after that.

  


  


They left the car ten blocks from the bus station closest to the scene of the crime and ran the rest of the way. Law kept checking his phone for the time. They were going to be late, even though they had had a head start.

They were a block away when Law heard br akes  screeching.

“Fuck,” he swore at the same time as he heard Robin say, “Oh shit.”

Law had never wished more to still be able to teleport himself than at that moment.

When they rounded the corner into the familiar street Law had seen entirely too much of  in his life , the bus was standing in the middle of the street, its front dented, and its driver held in place  in the middle of it by  Luffy .

Law shared a look with Robin before they both started sprinting towards Luffy at full-speed.

“Luffy, stop!” Robin shouted. Law was glad it had been her, because he wasn’t sure Luffy would listen to him. He had done him wrong one too many times.

“He killed Ace!” Luffy screamed, his voice raw. He sounded sadder than Law had expected, and a lot less angry, and it hit him deeply. This had been his doing. “He has to pay for it!”

They had almost reached him now and Robin stopped. Law wasn’t sure if she was afraid Luffy would lash out at her or if she had reached the distance her power would be most effective at, but she crossed her arms.

“Please,” she said. “You have to stop.” Hands grew out of the metal to Luffy’s left and right and wrapped around his arms to pry them away from the terrified bus driver. “Look at him. I think he’s scared enough.”

“I don’t want him to be scared! I want him to _suffer_!” Luffy shouted  and Law flinched. “Like Ace did!” Luffy was struggling against Robin’s grip and Law had no idea who was stronger.

“Please,” the bus driver whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I haven’t… I didn’t… I haven’t touched a drop since then, and I’m so sorry. I was going to apologize, but my bosses.”

“ _Fuck_ your bosses! And fuck _you_! You killed my brother!” Luffy pulled one of his arms free from Robin’s hands and raised it to strike the man.

Law couldn’t let this go on any longer.

“It wasn’t him!” he called, desperately, but his voice was stronger than he would have thought.

Luffy hissed,  his fist still raised . “Of course it was! He ran over my brother because he was drunk.”

Law took a shaky breath. “It wasn’t him,” he repeated. “It was me.”

It wasn’t the reveal he had thought it would be. The scene didn’t stop. Ace’s body didn’t magically  re appear. Luffy didn’t immediately jump at him.

“What?” Robin asked.

Law could feel the blood on his hands again.  Could feel its warmth on his skin. Could se e it seeping under his nails. “I killed Ace,” he said,  flatly, but still louder and stronger than he had intended. “I...”

Robin’s grip on Luffy must have slackened because he ripped free and launched himself at Law.  He gripped Law’s collar and pulled him towards him, their faces way too close.

“Stop fucking joking!” he growled.

“I’m not,” Law said. How could he not believe him? He should know Law well enough. “I stood over there and crushed his heart.” He nodded at the exact spot on the sidewalk, his neck straining against his now uncomfortably tight collar. “Because Doflamingo ordered me to.”

“I don’t believe it,” Luffy said.

“I do,” Robin said. Luffy turned his head to look at her.

But Law continued talking, because now that he had started, he didn’t know how to stop the entire truth  from  pouring out. “I was the one to dig up whatever he had left for you. He had led us there – not of his free will, of course – and he and Doflamingo stood there while I destroyed the concrete with my powers. And when we had what we came for, we came out here, and Doflamingo ordered me to kill him.”

Luffy was still now.

“’Take care of him’ he said, and I crushed his heart and pushed him into the oncoming bus. I can still feel it.”

“I don’t believe you,” Luffy said quietly, but it didn’t sound like it. His voice broke on the ‘you’ and Law’s guilt was wrecking his chest.

“How often am I going to have to tell you that it was me, because I’m going to do it,” Law said. “I killed him and I enjoyed it.”

It was quiet for a moment, as if death itself had descended on the street. Then a fist connected with the side of Law’s head.

He couldn’t see for a moment, he only felt his back colliding with the  concrete , and when he could see again, Luffy was over him, hitting him over and over. And Law deserved it. He deserved the violence, and the pain, and it felt almost… peaceful. Like an absolution. Finally.

“Luffy, stop!” Robin grew hands out of his back and chest in an attempt to hold him back, and when that didn’t work just wrapped her real arms around him. “This isn’t going to make it better. This isn’t going to bring Ace back.”

“It’s okay,” Law wheezed. _I deserve it. I want this._

Luffy stared at him for several long seconds, before finally going limp in Robin’s arms. “Get out of here,” he said. “Before I kill you.”

Law slowly got to his feet. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry.” Because he was. He hadn’t wanted to kill Ace, and he had been paying for it every moment of his life since then, but he had done it. And he had lied to Luffy about it.

That was his fault.

He left.

  


  


He didn’t know where he was going, but  finally he ended up in Gold Smith Park , with another bottle of whiskey.

He  _had_ enjoyed killing Ace, at least in the moment. But it had only lasted seconds, and then the spell had been broken.  He had found himself staring down at his bloody hands, bile rising in his throat, and then he had just started walking, with Doflamingo screaming at his back.

“ _Leave him! Come back, Law!_ _NOW!_ _”_

But his head had been clear, and Doflamingo had had no power over him anymore. He had heard the bus approaching. When Law turned, it had been swerving to avoid Ace lying in the street – futile, but admirable – and Law had summoned a room on instinct to keep Doflamingo in place.  It had been his chance.

He sat on a bench now, his head in his hands, and wondered how much he would have to drink to forget.

Every time Luffy had touched him kept replaying in his head, and Law felt sick. He was dirty, and he hadn’t wanted to soil Luffy with his presence. But it had happened.

How could he ever make up for this?

The truth was, there was no coming back from this. And since Law was too cowardly to kill himself, he would have to live with it.  He just didn’t know how.

His phone was in his hands and he was dialing Corazón’s number before he could stop himself. What did their petty fight matter anymore now that Law had fucked everything up?

But Corazón didn’t answer. Law felt the guilt clawing at his heart amplify, strengthened by the realization that maybe this time he had finally driven Corazón away for good.

“Hey, it’s Cora, I can’t come to the phone right now but leave a message. Except if you’re my agent – you know how to reach me.”

Law groaned but he waited for the beep anyway.

“Hey, it’s me… It’s Law.” He could barely recognize his own voice anymore, who knew if Corazón would. “I… I guess we’re not talking anymore, and I guess that’s also my fault, because I didn’t understand what you did. But I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For the silence at least. And I guess everything else, too. I just… I could really need you right now, and you’re not here, and it’s so much worse than I imagined.” He paused for a second. “I told Luffy. And you were right.”

Then he hung up.

  


  


He was pretty sure his credit card wouldn’t thank him for the night he had  after that , and neither would his liver, but he definitely needed the extra two bottles of booze. They made things tolerable, and dimmer.

He was  eventually  thrown off the park bench by a police officer and he went to find somewhere else to sleep.

  


The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a familiar elevator, with Bepo’s concerned face hovering over him.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Go away,” Law groaned.

Bepo sighed. “Let’s get you home.”

“Nooo...”

“Don’t be a baby now,” Bepo mumbled and bent down to get his hands under Law’s arms. “Come on.” he someone managed to get him up and into the hallway. Apparently he had called for the elevator and discovered Law in it. Or at least that’s what Law hypothesized in his still very unclear state.

Law let himself be dragged more than he walked and didn’t feel much beyond gratefulness that Bepo now also had a key to his flat.

They stumbled their way into Law’s apartment and Law steered towards the bedroom immediately. Hey, sleep didn’t sound so bad after all.

Bepo let him go when he fell onto the bed and sighed. “You good?” he asked.

Law only groaned and turned his head into his pillow. Bliss.

“I’ll get you some water,” Bepo said and then Law heard his receding footsteps and then. Nothing. Silence.

Sleep.

  


  


When he woke up, he felt like he had been run over by a truck.

The irony of that thought didn’t hit him until he opened his eyes and looked up at his ceiling.

Well, fuck. And he had thought he wasn’t able to get hangovers anymore.  He turned on his side, ever so slowly so he wouldn’t throw up immediately, and spotted a glass of water on the bedside table. He squinted at it for a moment.

Bepo. Where had he gone?

The light coming  i n through the windows told him that it had to be about midday, and he didn’t remember when Bepo had found him in the elevator – everything before that was fuzzy, too – but it couldn’t have been more than a couple hours ago.

He sat up very slowly and took the glass of water  to drink some . It couldn’t hurt.  One sip. Two sips. Three.  And then he just sat there, as the memories came flooding back. What had he done?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his front door opening and closing and then footsteps in the hallway. For a moment he wondered if Doflamingo had come for him, but then Bepo appeared in the doorway.

“Oh hey, you’re up.”

Law grimaced. “Believe me, I don’t want to be.”

“Been there,” Bepo mumbled. “You want some breakfast?”

“No offense, but _fuck no_ ,” Law said. He would probably throw it right up if he tried.

“I can make you some tea,” Bepo said. Law shook his head – which was a mistake. He groaned.

Bepo was still looking at him from the door and Law turned his head away. “Stop looking at me.” It was as if Bepo could see right through his skull into his head, and discover all the vile things he had done. It wasn’t a nice place up there.

“You wanna talk about it?” Bepo asked.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Law said.

“Alright,” Bepo said. Then he was quiet for a moment before he piped up again: “You should come to group with me.”

“The group with all the other… people?”

Bepo snorted a little before clamping a hand over his mouth. It was nice to see him laugh, even if it was at Law’s expense. Life went on. “Yeah, the group with all the people that Doflamingo got to.”

“That’s really not my thing,” Law said.

“I know,” Bepo said, “believe me. But you could… try? So I don’t have to call an ambulance for you one day?”

Law felt another brick of guilt being added to his wall. He was nothing but a burden to people.  He stared at Bepo, and saw the faces of all the people he had wronged. “ No,” he said, “I can’t.”

He couldn’t bare himself to all these people, not after what he had done – what he had done willingly, when all of them had just been victims. He didn’t belong there.

“Alright,” Bepo said and Law could hear his disappointment. “I’ll come back later.”

It wouldn’t change anything, but Law didn’t protest, either. It wouldn’t change anything, because he never changed. He would just keep hurting people.

He heard the door close behind Bepo  and then nothing but blessed silence. He was sure it would turn on him in a while and become suffocating. But for now he just turned around, pulled his pillow over his head and tuned out the world. He couldn’t bear it.

  


  


He forgot to keep track of time in the following days. His phone died eventually, because he didn’t charge it. He couldn’t even find it anymore where he had thrown it on the floor somewhere, and he didn’t care to. And with the blinds closed and his fitful sleep he couldn’t tell if minutes or hours had passed – he only figured that he was sleeping a lot. He didn’t feel hunger, either, only his throat itching for a drink, but after the last drops of whiskey were used up he was on dry land. Going out was out of the question.

So he didn’t leave his bed, and figured that maybe if he died here, he would eventually become one with it. Of course he knew on some level that before he would decompose completely, the smell would alert his neighbors and lead them to find him, but he chose to ignore that possibility.

It turned out that Bepo wasn’t going to let him die, anyway. He still had that damn key, and he apparently wasn’t afraid of using it – despite everything that had happened in Law’s apartment –  showing up to interrupt one of Law’s many naps. Law woke up to see him standing in the doorway, his nose scrunched up in disgust.

“Judge me all you want,” Law croaked.

“Oh, believe me, I am,” Bepo mumbled, and he didn’t come any closer. “You should really come to group with me, though.”

“Wasn’t group yesterday?”

“Three days ago,” Bepo corrected. Damn, it had been much longer than Law had thought. “But the arrangement is loose, anyway, we can call and arrange meetings whenever we want.”

Law felt lost.  He didn’t know what to do, or where to go from here, and he just wanted to keep lying in bed, but he was suddenly keenly aware of the thick air in the room and the smell. He couldn’t breathe.  For a moment, his head was full of cotton again. “Okay,”  he choked out  then , “ alright, fine. I’ll go with you.” Maybe it would at least make Bepo feel better.

  


He really didn’t feel like showering, or doing anything for that matter, but he knew he couldn’t leave the house without at least jumping under the water for a minute. He had to smell very, very bad. So he did that, while Bepo opened all the windows in the flat – the ones that would still open, at least – and called people from the support group. And then Law put on a frankly outrageously thick coat of makeup, because fuck, he couldn’t stand being looked at with more pity today.

He had forgotten to take the picture s for Doflamingo.  He found his phone under his bed, plugged it in and snapped a quick photo and sent it – without apologizing, because goddamn him. If he was going to try and do anything to Bepo, Law was going to be with him all day.  H e pulled on some jeans and a hoodie, and then he was ready to go.

He didn’t notice that the hoodie was yellow until they were halfway down the street, and going back to change would have been unreasonable.

It was going to be okay. He could just keep his coat on the entire time. He didn’t have to see it, and neither did anyone else.

  


They reached the café the support group meetings were held in a while later.

Not everyone had come, but there were half a dozen people, plus the two of them, and Bepo seemed to be on first name basis with all of them. It was kind of disorienting, to see him socializing so well. Maybe that was what other people did, when they went through trauma.

Law only  sat and listened quietly.  To t he man who had lost custody of his child, the woman who couldn’t move one of her arms anymore,  and finally to Bepo. He didn’t have to recount what had happened to him, he seemed to have done that at a previous meeting, but he responded to something the others had said.

“I know exactly what you mean when you say you feel like your agency was stripped from you… your free will,” he said, fidgeting nervously and running his fingers over the hem of his shirt, over and over again, “and I’ve felt that, too, but… Sometimes...” He paused there and Law wasn’t sure if he was only trying to collect himself, or trying to find the right words. “Sometimes it was kind of freeing. I didn’t have to think about things myself. Because that has always been my problem. Thinking too much.”

There was a little gasp from one of the women, and a slight murmur went around the table, but otherwise Bepo’s sentence stayed uncommented.

“But I realized afterwards that no matter how calm it may have made me feel in the moment… It was wrong. He isn’t a medication, and he didn’t take away my illness, even though he promised he would. He only used me. And he can’t will me to be happy, or sane.”

He looked at Law while he said the last sentence, and Law felt something shift inside him.

Bepo was right. Doflamingo had used him – had used them all. And while what he had done under his influence wasn’t necessarily his fault, he still felt like it. Which was where all the unhappiness and fucked up shit came from. Or, well, at least part of it. Law’s childhood hadn’t been happy after his parents had died, that couldn’t be left unblamed. Still, now it was his turn to make things right.

He couldn’t leave it all like this.

  


He still didn’t speak out for the rest of the meeting, but the feelings of discomfort and guilt and nausea had been tampered down by something else. He wasn’t calm, per se, but he knew what he had to do. He had a purpose, outside of hunting down Doflamingo, for the first time in a while.

  


  


He tried calling Luffy from Bepo’s phone,  standing outside the café afterwards with his breath forming little clouds in the air, since his was at home charging,  but Luffy didn’t answer. It struck Law as odd – Luffy was usually always up for conversation, and he couldn’t know Bepo’s number. Ignoring Law would have made sense, but this… It worried  him .

He must have really shaken Luffy. And no wonder, considering how Law had first let Luffy get close to him, without telling him, and then just dropped this bombshell on him that contradicted everything that he had been told – and that they had worked for.

The call went to voice mail, but Law didn’t leave a message. It felt cheap.

Maybe he should go by Luffy’s apartment? As soon as he had thought it, he mentally recoiled. No, too much. He could probably be happy that Luffy hadn’t shown up at his flat yet to kick his ass into the next century – not that he didn’t deserve it.

Maybe the best course of action for now would be to wait. Law knew that he had spent enough time waiting – although he wasn’t sure for what – but this was delicate. He couldn’t fuck it up any more than he already had.

“What did you do to this boy?” Bepo asked as he handed him back his phone, interrupting his thoughts.

Law took a breath, the air stinging in his lungs. “I killed his brother.” Why hide the truth any longer, now that Luffy knew?

Bepo stared at him for a moment. “Yesterday?” he squeaked.

Law almost had to laugh. “No, oh my god, no. Over a year ago, when...” He left the sentence unfinished, but Bepo knew. Of course.

“Doflamingo made you do it,” he said and his shocked face softened.

“Yes,” Law said. “But that’s no excuse.” It really wasn’t.

“Maybe it should be,” Bepo said and shrugged.

“Bepo, I killed a man,” Law said and frowned.

“But you didn’t want to.”

For a moment, Law held back the thought in his mind.  “What if I did?” he said then, quietly.

The corner of Bepo’s mouth quirked up. “You don’t believe that,” he said. “And I don’t, either. I know you.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true. Come on, let’s go home.”

Law still felt terrible, but he knew how to try and make it right.  He followed Bepo in the direction of home, and for once it didn’t feel like a chore to return there.  Maybe he would call Robin when he got home.

  


  


He did exactly that.

When there was a click in the line followed by Robin’s “Hello?”, Law’s only thought was how  _happy_ he was that at least someone was answering the phone. It was pathetic. He hated phones.

Then came the crushing realization that he now had to actually say something – and that he wasn’t prepared. For all the thinking he had done, it had all been regarding Luffy  only .

“Hey,” he mumbled, “umm… It’s Law.”

“Oh,” Robin made. Nothing else. At least she didn’t hang up on him.

Law took a shaking breath and then asked the burning question on his mind: “How is he?”

“How do you _think_ he is?” Robin said and now Law could hear the anger in her voice. “Zoro could barely hold him back from coming after you after I got him back home, and then I had to hold Zoro back from paying you a visit, so it’s all _great_ over here. Luffy’s not leaving his room and Usopp thinks half the things in there are broken already.”

“I’m sor-” Law started, but she cut him off.

“Don’t you dare. You crushed him, you know that, right?”

“Of course I know.” He was silent for a second, scrambling for words, then: “I just want to know what I can do to…” He didn’t finish the sentence, he couldn’t.

“You’ve done enough. You killed his _brother_!” Robin said sharply and Law  flinched, but she seemed to catch herself after a moment. “Look, I know Doflamingo was controlling you, I know you… you didn’t chose to do it. Rebecca didn’t want to kill her mother either. I’m trying not to blame you, but it’s really hard. You hid it from all of us. I always knew there was something… dark to you, because hell, I know what it looks like. There’s shit I’ve done, too. But you lied to him for so long, when it directly impacted him. There’s no coming back from that.”

“I know,” Law said defeatedly.

“I can’t absolve you from your guilt, and I don’t know if anyone can. But fuck, Luffy really likes you.” He heard her stifling a sob. “I can’t deal with you right now, and neither can he.” And with that she hung up.

He should have expected it, but he still felt the gut-wrenching desperation.  After she  call had ended ,  Law just stared at his phone for a while, sitting on his sofa.

He was never going to be able to make this right, but he would have to try.  Even if that meant never seeing Luffy again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please feel free to come yell at me on my [fandom twitter](https://twitter.com/luffylaws) (or check out my [original writing twitter](https://twitter.com/bvorr))


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to go up a couple days ago but with school starting up again after my internship i uhhh... kind of forgot. :/ sorry about the delay
> 
> warnings for this chapter include murder/death and something I can only describe as body horror

 

Law didn’t know what else to do than give Luffy space.

It was a good coincidence then that he got a new case right then – something fairly standard, nothing worth more than a few nights of work – to keep him busy. At least that way he wouldn’t be tempted to drink himself into a stupor every day.

He also felt the pull to go to the Thousand Sunny again, to at least see Luffy  while watching from the outside , like he had done so many times  in the past . Except now Luffy kne w him.  Except now Luffy knew what he had done. Except now nothing was like it had been before.  He caught himself twice wanting to get out at the subway st ation that led to the bar, and the second time the only thing that stopped him was his phone ringing. Law looked at it in annoyance, expecting his client to want a status update, and almost dropped it when he read the name on the screen.

_Corazón_ .

He answered immediately.

“Hey.” God, he sounded so fucking sad. Pathetic.

“Law,” Corazón said and before Law felt the stabbing sympathy, he felt… comforted. “I finally listened to the message you left me, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Law said and regretted the lie immediately. He watched the doors of the subway car close in front of him and held onto the bar as it exited the station. “Okay, no, but… I’m still alive, so that’s something.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” Corazón said. “Our disagreement was so petty. I don’t… You were suffering all on your own. I’m sorry.”

Law blinked. “Are you crying?”

“Maybe.” Corazón heaved a sigh and then hiccuped. “Do you want me to come over?”

“No, it’s okay,” Law said. _I’m just glad you finally called._ He couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed at Corazón’s emotions. It was familiar, in an odd way. Something to be expected. Something uncomfortable, but sweet.

“Are you sure?” Corazón asked.

“Yeah, I have a case again. Trying to distract myself...”

“Luffy stopped talking to you?”

Law instinctively looked around to see how many people there were in the car. It felt odd to talk about this in public – even though he had made his confession out in the street, too – and it amplified the guilt. There were  a few empty seats,  no rush hour numbers, but he automatically lowered his voice even further.

“Yeah. I tried calling him but Robin called me and told me to stop so I’m just. Going to do that. I’m probably lucky I’m not in jail yet – or beaten to a pulp.”

“He probably knows it wasn’t your fault.”

Law ran his free hand over his face and pulled his beanie further down his head. “ Maybe but…  It  has to be hard to process. I lied to him for so long.”

“I...” Corazón interrupted himself but Law knew what he had been about to say. ‘I told you not to get too close to him.’ He had told him about a million times. To not go to the bar. To not talk to Luffy. But Law hadn’t listened.

“I know,” he said. He regretted it deeply. If only he could turn back time. He could make sure he never met Luffy. He could go back and never have killed Ace. He could go back and never meet Doflamingo. He could make sure Corazón never went on that mission, never joined the special forces. He could prevent his family’s death.

This was a dangerous road of what ifs to go down but Law couldn’t stop himself before it was too late.

He took a deep, shuddering breath that made him realize that he hadn’t taken in any oxygen in the past thirty seconds. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? I should be done with my case then.”

“Alright,” Corazón said. “Take care. And Law… Again, I’m sorry.”

“I know,” Law said. “It’s okay.” They both had tempers. They were both thoroughly fucked up. They just flew off the handle in different ways.

  


  


Law got back to his apartment building later that night with more incriminating pictures on his camera than strictly needed and the knowledge that tomorrow, he would be cashing a paycheck. He would however also be done with his distraction, which meant he would be left to his thoughts again.  Maybe he could stretch it out for a few more days.  Being alone with his thoughts was a terrible, exhausting feeling.

He was almost relieved when Bepo stuck his head out of his apartment door when Law walked past. For once, his company seemed like a good prospect. That was, until he opened his mouth.

“Hey,” he whispered, “I think there’s someone in your apartment.”

“What?” Law hissed back and squinted at the end of the corridor where his door was. Now that Bepo said it, it was standing a little ajar. Law was already on the move again, feeling in his bag for his knife and in his pocket for the sufentanil. “Stay here.”

He moved towards his door as quietly and swiftly as he could, pushing it open with his foot. It creaked loudly. Fuck, he should have oiled the hinges forever ago. For a moment he stood in his doorway, frozen, but there was no noise from inside.

“Whoever’s in there, you better get your ass out here before I call the cops!” he called. No one answered, of course.

He walked inside, still as quietly as he could.  Nothing seemed out of place so far, except for the door. Actually, things seemed to be almost  _too_ clean.

Then he got to his bedroom door and almost dropped his knife.

“Oh _fuck_.”

“What is it?” Bepo asked, sounding way too close.

“Don’t come in here!” Law called, panicked. He couldn’t see this.

On his bed was Baby, surrounded by a pool of blood that hadn’t completely sunken into the mattress yet.  She hadn’t been shot, like the last person to die in this building, but rather her throat had been slit. Or maybe she had done it herself, invisible strings attached to her wrist leading her to do unspeakable acts.

“He’s been here,” Law mumbled to himself.

There was a gasp turned shr ie k from the door and when Law turned, Bepo was standing there. His hands flew up to his mouth to stifle the noise. He stumbled a step back.

“We have to call an ambulance,” he choked out.

Law shook his head. “It’s too late,” he said. He didn’t have to feel for a pulse – the amount of blood and Baby’s lifeless eyes said it all – but he did it anyway.  Of course there was nothing.  Her body was almost cold already .

This was the last fucking thing he needed right now.

He took a step back.

He couldn’t believe he had felt safe in his own apartment for so long, when that safety had only been an illusion. Doflamingo could gain entrance everywhere he wanted, he could just walk in through the front  entrance and get someone to open all doors for him. And even if he couldn’t obtain a key, cracking locks was no problem for him – as it had never been one for Law, either.

And now another girl was dead because of him. Because of Doflamingo. Because of Law.

Panic welled up in  Law  but he suppressed it, pushed down the rising nausea, too. Held his breath for a moment and recounted the street names quietly in his mind.

_Dove Street. Argent Way. Amber Road. Main Street._

He repeated it three times.  Then he released his breath and turned to Bepo. “You can’t be here.”

Bepo blinked at him. “What do you  _mean_ ? There’s a dead girl in your bedroom. We have to call the police. Or… we have to do  _something_ .”

“They’re not going to believe us. I’m going to go away for this. Which is precisely why you can’t be here. Go home, lock the door, and try to forget all of this, okay?”

Bepo stared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’ll deal with this, okay?” Law said.

M aybe it was the best thing after all.  Maybe, if he went away, Doflamingo would leave everyone on the outside alone. It was the best possible option.

“No! It’s not okay! I can’t let you do this.” Bepo had grabbed his phone and was already dialing. Law was next to him in one movement and snatched it out of his hand. Poor Bepo. Law already hated himself for what he would say next.

“Don’t make me hurt you over this,” he said. “Please.” He raised a hand and flicked his wrist to create a _Room_. “Just… go home. We’re done here.”

Bepo stared at him, fear and betrayal in his eyes, and it broke Law’s h e art a little. He shut the feeling out. It was too late for regrets now.

“Don’t do this,” Bepo said. Law closed his eyes for a second.

“Please,” he said, opening them again and looking right at Bepo, “just get out.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, staring at each other, until Law realized that Bepo wouldn’t back down. He wouldn’t leave. Law grit his teeth, and took a step forward. Bepo took another step back and collided with the wall. But Law just brushed past him and walked towards the front door. If he left, Bepo would be alone with the body, and maybe that would freak him out enough to leave, too.

“Where are you going?!” Bepo called after him.

Law didn’t say anything, but the answer was: To tie up loose ends.

  


  


He couldn’t call Corazón. Not after they had just started talking again. Not about this. Because Cora would do anything in his power to keep Law out of jail – and that was where he needed to go.

H e stood in the street, his hands freezing because he hadn’t taken anything but his coat, and called the only person familiar enough with the case who would believe him. He called  Tsuru .

“If I got locked up in prison and Doflamingo broke me out, would that be enough evidence to convict him?” he asked, not even bothering with a greeting. This was his last resort. And it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve to go to prison.

“Trafalgar, do you know how late it is? Please, don’t waste my time with hypotheticals like that,” Tsuru said, sounding strained.

“I’m dead serious,” Law said. “Just answer the question, please.”

“Not necessarily,” she sighed. “But I’ll indulge you. It would have to be somewhere where the guards couldn’t be bought, which is nearly impossible. And somewhere where you wouldn’t go for minor offenses. Supermax, ideally. Isolation, at best, so it can be assured that you didn’t have outside contact.”

“Alright,” Law said. He had figured as much.

“What are you planning?” Tsuru asked.

“None of your concern.” If he told her, she would just try to convince him of the opposite. But there was no other option. “Thanks.”

“You don’t want to go to prison, Trafalgar,” she said and Law was surprised to hear a hint of desperation bleed into her voice. “It’s hell. I’ve sent enough people there and kept enough people out of it to know.”

“I know,” Law said. He could have said so many things, but instead he thought of Rebecca, and how she would be free soon. “How’s Rebecca?”

Tsuru was quiet for a moment – a frustrated silence. “Fine, for what it’s worth,” she finally said. “You should come visit her.”

Law wished. He wished he could see her, or at least talk to her again, but it was too late in the day for that. He just had to hope that she would know. And that she would find happiness eventually.

“Tell her she’ll be out really soon, alright? And that she doesn’t have to be afraid anymore.” The nightmare was over for her.

“Trafalgar-” Tsuru started but Law hung up on her. He didn’t have to justify his choices to her any more than he already had.

  


  


He knew what he needed to do. But he wasn’t ready yet. There was something he needed to do first. Someone he needed to talk to first.

His feet led him to the subway station automatically and before he knew it, he was standing  outside of Luffy’s bar. The position he found himself in now was disgustingly familiar – his hands buried in his pockets, face half-hidden behind  his hood. He had had every intention of going in, but then he had stopped on the sidewalk across the street.

The guilt that had overtaken him had been familiar, too – at first. But then a feeling of  gut-wrenching sadness had joined it. And now he was just standing there, wondering what he was doing.

Finally he gave himself a push. He had to do this. Soon it wouldn’t matter anymore what Luffy thought of him,  bu t Law had to at least give him a chance at closure  first . He crossed the street, walking towards the warm light pouring from the windows and the glass in the door. This would be the last time.

He pushed open the door.

It was busy for a Thursday night. People were clustering around the bar, tended by a man with an impressive afro, who Law didn’t recognize. He let his eyes wander through the room and noticed Zoro and Nami sitting in a booth in the corner. For a moment he considered turning around and leaving again, or just going around to the other side of the bar and asking the bartender about Luffy, because he remembered what Robin had said about Zoro. But then Nami spotted him.

Her eyes narrowed and she elbowed Zoro, nodding at Law. Zoro looked over, and immediately started to get up.

Law was so fucked. He might as well meet Zoro in the middle to make it easier for him. He took a step toward him, everything in him screaming to leave, then another one.

It was no comfort that he was taller than  Zoro –  Law was taller than most people, except Corazón – because Zoro was a lot bulkier than him, and probably a lot stronger. And Law would rather die than use his powers on him.

“I should punch your teeth out right here,” Zoro grit out and Law could see his balled fist and hear the slight tremor in his voice, “but then someone would call the cops on us, and I can’t afford to spend a night in jail right now.” Law almost scoffed. What irony. Here he was, trying to go to prison. “Besides, Luffy would be very disappointed in me.” Okay, that one stung.

Law shrugged. “We can take this outside, if you want.” Honestly, the pain would be kind of cathartic. Finally, something he deserved. And a taste of things to come, on top of it.

“I don’t think that’s why you came here,” Nami said, suddenly appearing next to them.

Law looked between them. “I wanted to talk to Luffy,” he said. “I know, I know, he doesn’t want to see me, but...” He rubbed his neck. “I’m going away soon, and I didn’t… I wanted him to have the chance to talk to me again, in case there’s… anything he wants to say to me.”

“Well, tough luck,” Nami said. “He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Where is he?” Law asked.

“Not here,” Zoro said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And it’s none of your business.”

Law deflated a little. “Just… tell him I came by, please. That I’ll be going away, because I found a way to defeat Doflamingo, but it demands a sacrifice I’m willing to make, because it’s what I deserve anyway. And that I’m sorry.”

“Go away,” Zoro only said.

“Please,” Law told him. “Please tell him.”

Nami seemed to take pity on him. “We will,” she said. “But you have to leave now.”

Law nodded, and turned. This was the best he could hope for.

  


He just sat outside  on a park bench for a while  after he had left the bar , wondering what he should do. From the way they had talked it was evident that Luffy wasn’t in the city at the moment. But he couldn’t wait. He had to move now, before someone took his chance away from him.

His only other regret was that he wouldn’t be able to collect the paycheck from the case he had basically already closed. Well, it was too late now.

He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. When he pulled it out, he was surprised to see Robin’s number.  He answered almost on instinct,  his heart speeding up .  She was the last person he had expected to call him, just after Luffy.

“Hello?”

“Law. Nami just told me you came by the _Sunny_.”  She sounded surprisingly neutral. Law couldn’t help but see that as a good sign.

“I did,” he said, but Robin was already talking again.

“She also told me you said you had found a way to take down Doflamingo.”

“I did,” Law repeated. And then it just came flowing out of him, and he was unable to stop it. “There’s only one way to get the evidence we need. And… there’s been another murder, thanks to him. Someone needs to take the blame anyway. So I’m going to go to prison – supermax. He’s obsessed with me. He’s not going to want me to stay in there. He’ll know that it’s a trap, but he’s too cocky to think they’ll convict him, and he’ll be too angry. It’s perfect.”

There was silence for a moment.

“You’re out of your mind,” Robin said then, flatly. Law was actually surprised at the lack of inflection in her voice.

“It’s the only way,” he said, not really up for another round of arguing, but ready for it nonetheless.

“No, I know that,” she said, and now the annoyance bled through. That was better. “But you’re out of your mind if you-”

“It’s my only choice – and my best bet,” Law interrupted her. He didn’t have the nerve for this right now. He was almost glad that he didn’t have the time to properly think this through. “If I wait any longer it’ll be too late. Just… did Nami also tell you that I want him to know I’m sorry.”

“Of course,” Robin said. “But you know-”

“Yes,” Law said immediately. He knew none of them actually wanted to talk to him. He was aware. “I just wanted to make sure he knows I regret what I did. I’ll be out of all of your lives soon enough.”

“That’s not-” Robin started but Law didn’t let her finish that sentence, either. He couldn’t let her make this any harder on him than it already was.

“Goodbye.” And with that he hung up.

  


  


  


It was late, way past midnight, when he made his way back to his apartment. His heart felt heavier the closer he got, but he knew this was necessary – and his only option left now. He wouldn’t get close to Doflamingo any other way again.

He expected his apartment to be empty when he got home, and he didn’t even bother to take off his shoes, walking straight to the bedroom, his phone already in hand to call the police.

He stopped short in the doorframe. His bedroom was empty. No body.

For a moment he doubted his sanity, but then he remembered Bepo had also been there.

Bepo. The meddling little shit.

Law grit his teeth, turned on his heel and stomped back out of his apartment. He had told him not to worry about it. He had told him multiple times to leave, and to not get involved. How Bepo had even managed to move the body on his own was beyond him.

He just left his apartment door open behind himself and started pounding on Bepo’s down the hall, but there was no answer.

“Bepo! Open up!”

Still no answer.

“Come on, I know you’re there!”

Or was he still out, disposing of the body somewhere? Law took a step back and raised his phone, ready to dial Bepo’s number, when the elevator at the end of the corridor opened again.

Out stepped Bepo and Corazón.

“Are you kidding me?” Law said loudly.

Bepo stopped in his tracks, looking terrified – and rightly so – but Corazón just kept advancing. “Don’t blame him for this,” he said. “He had to call me, and then he just went along with what I said.”

“Bullshit,” Law said immediately. “This was his idea.” He knew it had been a mistake to leave Bepo’s phone be his door. Goddammit.

“You can’t ruin your life over something that isn’t your fault,” Bepo said quietly but decisively.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t your decision to make, alright?” Law spit. “I had a plan.”

“Your plan can’t be to go to prison,” Corazón said. “He would never go for a trap that obvious.”

“I think you’re overestimating your brother’s intelligence.” Law put as much venom into the words as possible, almost relishing in the way Corazón recoiled. “And underestimating his obsession with me.”

“Law-,” Corazón started but Law didn’t let him speak.

“What did you do with the body?”

He saw Bepo glance at Corazón nervously. Corazón heaved a deep sigh and then looked over his shoulder. “Can we go inside first, please?”

Law rolled his eyes. What did it fucking matter now? But fine, if that was what it took to get them to tell him… He whirled around again and pushed the door to his apartment open  further , waiting for them to follow.

“We cut her up and dumped her in the river,” Corazón said the moment the door had closed behind them. “The old warehouse property, the one you once ran away to.”

“You’re absolutely fucking insane,” Law said automatically, barely registering the second sentence.

“Well, what did you want us to do? Bury her in the park? Hide her in the basement? Someone would find her. The river was our best bet.”

“How did you even dismember her? You don’t...” He shot a sideward glance at Bepo. Oh to hell with it. He knew about Law. He knew about Doflamingo. There was no need for secrecy anymore. “You don’t even have any powers.”

“I have military training, Law,” Corazón said dryly. That explained nothing, but Law had learned a long time ago that Corazón’s ‘military training’ hadn’t been of the standard variety. The special forces he had called home had been of the worst kind.

Law brought a hand up to his forehead and ran it over his skin and through his hair. This sucked, majorly, but as  he  took a breath and tried to sort his thoughts he stopped panicking, and a new plan formed in his head.

He just had to wait a little. And get the two of them out of here.

“That’s sick, you know that?” he mumbled.

Corazón sighed. “I get rid of a body for you and you’re not the least bit grateful.”

“Yeah, because I had plans for it.”

“Can the both of you stop talking like this?” Bepo asked, his voice shaking. “It’s like listening to… two cold-blooded murderers. Don’t you care at all? She is… was a person. She has a name! She was our neighbor! Someone is going to notice she’s gone.”

“Yeah, well, you two got rid of her,” Law sighed. “So we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m actually really tired and thanks to you I have to think of a new plan to get justice for all the people _his brother_ has harmed,  Baby included, so it would be great if you could actually listen to me for once and leave me alone.”

Corazón,  just having proclaimed his former military affiliation, now looked like a kicked puppy. Law ignored the uncomfortable stabbing in his gut. He knew that opening that particular wound again would lead to nothing but infection, and the ir relationship wasn’t too secure anyway since they had just started talking again, b ut there was no other way. And the less Corazón cared, the better.

“Fine,” Bepo sniffed. “I’m done with this.” He raised his hands and then turned around, wrenching the door open again.

Law turned to Corazón, looking expectant. Corazón looked torn between disappointment and anger.

“Law, please, you don’t… you can’t do this.”

“Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do,” Law said icily. “Besides, you made sure I can’t go with my original plan, so I’ll have to find another way.”

Corazón stared at him for a moment before he closed his eyes. “Alright. Okay. But I’m not going to apologize.”

“Just go away,” Law said. He wished he didn’t have to do this, but Corazón had proven Law couldn’t trust him with this.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Corazón mumbled and it looked like he wanted to reach out for Law. Thankfully he knew better than to actually do it.

“You too,” Law said, and he had trouble keeping his voice from wavering.

And then Corazón turned and left, too, closing the door that Bepo had left open behind him.

  


Law knew this conversation would stay with him for a while if he didn’t do anything. But there was nothing to do in his apartment. Bepo and Corazón had even changed his sheets – and probably burned the blood-stained ones – but he was sure his mattress was ruined under the new one, too. He would never be able to sleep in this bed again.

So he sat in his office and waited.

Finally, he got sick of it. He was sure that Bepo would still be awake despite the late hour, listening intently, waiting for him to leave. He grabbed his jacket, made sure everything he needed was in his pocket, and then opened the window to his fire escape. He was sure it wasn’t up to code anymore, but he probably wouldn’t die going down it.

He climbed out, left the window open behind him, and then carefully went down the two stories.

It was time to raise a body from the depths of the river.

  


He walked the few blocks down to the river,  to the abandoned warehouse area Corazón had described earlier,  which greeted him with nothing but dark ness . Law hadn’t brought a flashlight and found his way to the edge of the water by the light of his phone screen and the receding moon.

Then he stood at the edge, water lapping at the metal walls to his feet.

“Room,” he mumbled and spread out his arms, the shimmering blue dome stretching out around him and beneath the surface of the water.

It was weird every time, how suddenly his awareness of things heightened, and he could feel things he couldn’t even see. He could  sense the lazy current of the water and a stirring at the periphery of his senses made him aware of a fish entering his  _Room_ . But that wasn’t what he was looking for.

He focused his senses on the river bed, the slick sand and dirt at the bottom of it.  There were several objects there, and it took him a moment to determine their size. Most of them were decidedly not human.  Then h e found an arm, a leg. The second arm. Finally his senses ghosted over a round object. That had to be it.

He raised his hand,  invisible force closing around the thing under water, and slowly raised it to wards the glittering night sky above it.  It broke the surface, and suddenly Law was happy about the darkness. It would have looked ghostly no matter what he did, but a disembodied, bloody head floating above the river would have been an out of season sight in the daylight.

Distantly he wondered why Corazón and Bepo hadn’t thrown it in covered in a sack.

He dropped it on the ground unceremoniously,  let his  _Room_ collapse, and looked around. He would need something to carry it with, because he didn’t want to have to touch it all the way to a police station – or have it float next to him, god forbid. He would be looking deranged enough already.  He spotted a stark white plastic bag a few meters away. Thank god for littering. With a few steps he had reached and picked it up and was then back with the head, carefully maneuvering it into the bag. It didn’t have any holes, but thanks to the soaked hair it would be dripping anyway.

Law sighed and straightened up. It was time to go. He looked out over the water a last time, focusing on the reflection of the moon on the shallow waves. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

  


  


The police station was just a few blocks uptown. He could have gone to any precinct, really, but somehow it felt important to him that Detective Smoker saw this.

The walk there felt like the longest fifteen minutes of his life.

It was the middle of the night by now, and he assumed that the night shift was sparser than what the building usually held during the day. Enough witnesses, but only a few people to overwhelm if it was necessary. Most would be out on patrol anyway. So it made sense when he walked in and there was no one at reception stopping in. He could just walk through and he took one, two, three, four, five, six, seven steps before anyone even noticed him. Another one until the officer’s eyes fell down to the dripping plastic bag in his grip. Another until his “Hey!  Who are you?  What do you have there?  Stop! ”. Another until a gun was drawn on him.

But Law didn’t stop until he had walked the last four steps into Smoker’s office and dropped the plastic bag on his desk, the handles falling down and revealing Baby’s lifeless face.

Smoker’s cigar dropped from his mouth and he rose from his chair, drawing his gun.

Law smiled. He felt like he had finally crossed a line he couldn’t come back from.

“You finally going to lock me up now?” he asked.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! aaaand we're back with chapter 21. honestly what took the longest to write was that one long-ass scene and the rest... was fine, but i just got really tired of it
> 
> speaking of tired, updates might be a little slow for the next couple of months. my last semester before i graduate (with this degree, at least lol) is going to be brutal and what little time off i have i'm going to be spending traveling and seeing friends. so please be patient with me and await my triumphant return :P
> 
> warnings are mostly a continuation from last chapter, i.e. body horror and murder etc.

 

Law didn’t know why he was as calm as he was. He had expected his heart to be thundering against his rib cage, his hands to be shaking, his head to be clouded with doubt. But his heartbeat was steady, his hands were resting at his sides, and his head was clear. He was doing the right thing.

And somehow, the shock and disgust on Smoker’s face was satisfying. Finally people were looking at him the way he deserved.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Smoker swore. “Hands behind your back. Turn around.”

Law obliged willingly and allowed himself a small, relieved exhale as Smoker handcuffed him and patted him down.

Finally people were seeing him for who he really was.

 

Smoker took him to an interrogation room, handcuffed him to the table and then left him there. No doubt to photograph, catalog and then clean up the mess Law had made on his desk, although Law was sure there was some poor new hire watching him from the other side of the glass to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. If Smoker didn’t know that Law had powers, he had to at least suspect it at this point.

So Law only waited. It was all he could do – it was out of his hands for now. An almost cathartic feeling. He didn’t have to try and control this situation yet, it was supposed to spin out of control for a while.

Eventually, Smoker returned, looking exhausted. He had probably wanted to be home by now, but Law didn’t have it in himself to feel sorry for the man. Not anymore.

“Whose head did you just put on my table out there?” Smoker asked.

“She not in the system?” Law asked, eyebrows raised. “Baby, neighbor of mine.”

“Baby?” Smoker echoed, and Law recognized the tone of someone who was trying to keep up their stoic exterior. He could hear the hysterical edge bleeding in.

“It’s a nickname. I don’t know what her actual name is.”

“Why are you here?” Smoker asked.

“I killed her. Decided to turn myself in.”

“That’s _bullshit_.”

Law scoffed. “A while ago you wanted to see me behind bars for murdering the mother of a client.”

“No, I was _interrogating_ you because your client shot her mother in your apartment. This is…,” he made a sweeping hand gesture, “too convenient. You want something out of this.”

He had sharp observational skills, Law had to give him that. Still, it was very annoying. He wasn’t going to beg to be locked up because that would _definitely_ raise suspicion, and he knew Smoker had seen enough of him to look right through him if he decided to act deranged. His relief about finally knowing what to do was wearing off, replaced by a sense of urgency. He needed to get this done.

“I was just tired of pretending,” he said. “Pretending to be a normal person.”

Smoker sighed and rubbed his nose. Good. Law was wearing him down.

“You’re definitely not normal, but this… What could this woman possibly have done to deserve this?”

“She was a _very_ annoying neighbor.” Students usually were, he wasn’t lying there. In fact, he was annoyed by all neighbors. Humans kept getting worse.

“You’ll be going away for a very long time for this, you know that, right?”

That was the plan. But he couldn’t reveal that without also revealing himself, and his real motive. So he just shrugged. “I guess.” In all honesty he was just glad Tsuru hadn’t shown up yet to act as his attorney and throw a wrench into his plans. A state mandated lawyer suited him better.

Smoker was about to open his mouth again when a man opened the door to the interrogation room. “Sir, there’s someone here to see him,” he said flatly.

“What do you mean “There’s someone here”?! There’s no _visitation_ in this goddamn station.”

“He says to come out,” the man said again and finally Law recognized his vacant stare. Fuck. He couldn’t be here. It was too early. He was too early.

“ _Laaaaw_.” Law’s shoulders locked up immediately. That fucking voice. No one here stood a chance against _him_. Law’s eyes flickered up to the security cameras. But maybe there would be proof…

“Law, come out heeere.” Like hell he would. He couldn’t feel the pull of a command thankfully. Was this Doflamingo’s limit? Was he too far away? Or was he simply not using his despicable powers right now?

He met eyes with Smoker, but before either of them could decide what to do, the voice sounded again.

“If you’re not out here in thirty seconds, people are going to start dying.”

Ah, manipulation of another kind then. Lovely.

“Take them off,” Law said and rattled the handcuffs around his wrists. He could have gotten out of them, probably, but then Smoker might have shot at him and that was a little much to have to deal with right now. Plus the cost to his already depleted energy would have been tremendous. “Come on, he’s not fucking around.”

He could see Smoker weighing his options, but then he reached over the table and unlocked the handcuffs on the hook on the table, only to close them around Law’s wrists again. Law sighed. Of course he didn’t trust him. But at least he could stand up now…

“Follow me,” Smoker said and passed the man standing in the door. Law wanted to tell him that he should go first, but he kept his mouth shut. He was too preoccupied with the failure of his plan, anyway. He had thought he could lay out a trap for Doflamingo, but instead he had stepped right into one.

They walked down the short corridor to the main office of the station, and Law’s steps slowed considerably before they entered. He wasn’t ready for this. He was handcuffed and entirely at two men’s mercy, neither of whom he could trust not to take advantage of the situation.

Smoker rounded the corner before him.

“Ah, captain, there you are,” Doflamingo said. “I heard you had a man named Trafalgar Law in your custody, and without just cause at that.”

“He’s here,” Smoker said coolly. “But you’re wrong, he’s here under suspicion of murder.”

“Now now, captain, don’t be like that. We all know it wasn’t him who killed that poor girl, hm?”

“How do you know that?” Smoker asked. Law closed his eyes. _Don’t provoke him._ He willed his legs to move and finally stepped into Doflamingo’s field of view, too. “Please release my men from whatever you have done to them.” Smoker and him were standing eight feet apart, with Smoker’s gun – foolishly – raised to keep Doflamingo at bay.

Doflamingo’s attention immediately shifted from Smoker to Law and something akin to a smile, but twisted, dark and full of too-sharp teeth, appeared on his face. “Law, hello. There you are.”

“Why are you here?” Law asked through gritted teeth.

“So rude. I do not even get a greeting? I’m here to free you, of course.”

“I don’t need your help. I’m here because I want to be here,” Law said. Contrary to being anywhere near Doflamingo.

“Why would you want to be here to go to prison for a murder you didn’t commit? A murder that in fact I committed?”

“Of course,” Smoker said. Law groaned. “Hands up!”

“It’s not going to work!” he said at the same time as Doflamingo said: “Now, we don’t want to make a scene, do we? Lower your weapon, detective, it’s not going to do you any good against me.”

There was a command in that sentence and Law could feel it washing over him, not intended for him. He didn’t have to turn his head to know it would hit Smoker, there was nothing to _see_ , really. Smoker would lower his gun. Smoker would listen to Doflamingo.

Law grit his teeth and became aware of the burning in his chest indicating that he wasn’t breathing right. “Again,” he said, measuring his words carefully, slowly, “what do you want?”

“I want you to come with me, of course,” Doflamingo said and there was that disgusting smile again.

“And why, pray tell, would I do that?” Law asked. “These people mean nothing to me. You could kill them all and I wouldn’t care. You could make me come with you, of course, but you haven’t done that yet, which means you either can’t or you don’t want to.”

“Now, we both now that isn’t true,” Doflamingo grinned. “You’ve always been sentimental. And you came out here out of your own free will, didn’t you? You want to come with me.”

“I really, really don’t.” Law said, not even bothering to keep the disgust out of his voice anymore.

“But _I_ want you to. We could be grand together. We could rule the city.”

“No, thanks.”

He needed no thrones, or cold halls and stairs stained with the blood of the people lying at his feet. Especially not when it all came with Doflamingo. All he wanted was to go back home, call Corazón and tell him that everything was going to be alright. Even if it was a lie.

Doflamingo took a step closer now and Law had to withstand the overwhelming urge to retreat. He wasn’t going to back down. He couldn’t.

“Come with me, Law. I need you.”

Revulsion cursed through Law like poison. “You _need_ me?” he spat. “No, you don’t need me. All you want is my power. And it’s attached to me, and that’s why you want me to come with you – if you knew how to find it again, you would just kill me.”

“No,” Doflamingo said and shook his head and that was actually… not what Law had expected. “I want you _and_ your power.”

“Saying it like that doesn’t make it better,” Law said. He was only still talking because he was frantically trying to weigh his options. There was no way he was going to make it out of here without at least some casualties, and one person had already died today. He didn’t need any more deaths on his conscience.

“Don’t you see? This partnership is inevitable. We could rule this city together. We could rule this _country_ together. I’m trying, you know,” Doflamingo said. “I’m not commanding you, as you can tell. I’m simply _asking_ you.”

“I don’t see how killing an innocent girl is _trying_ ,” Law said, barely suppressed fury making his voice shake. “I don’t see how walking into a police station and having everyone point their guns at themselves to shoot at your behest is _asking_. So, hell no, thank you.” The gall of Doflamingo trying to paint himself in an innocent light made Law shake with rage.

“Come with me,” Doflamingo said, “and no one else has to die.”

He didn’t have a choice. He wasn’t being forced by Devil Fruit powers but by regular means this time, and somehow – impossibly – it was even more painful.

A last deep breath, then he opened his mouth and...

“Like hell he’s going to do that!”

Law blinked and Doflamingo flinched. Then he turned, and now Law could see Luffy standing in the entrance to the office, breathing heavily, Zoro and Nami flanking him on either side.

It looked like Zoro was holding an honest to god sword. Meanwhile Nami had equipped what seemed to be a simple staff, but the material had a gleam to it that told Law that it was more than it let on.

“Ah, the plaything arrives.”

“You!” Luffy yelled and pointed at Law, completely ignoring Doflamingo. “Are so stupid!”

Law simply gaped. What was he doing here? Why was he here? How had he known where to go? (And somewhere in the back of his mind the fact that Doflamingo had called Luffy a ‘plaything’, as if he wasn’t a fully fledged person, registered.)

“If you don’t mind, we’re in the middle of something here,” Doflamingo said.

Finally, Luffy turned to him again. “I know, that’s why I’m here. To make you leave, once and for all.” Both Nami and Zoro readied their weapons.

But they wouldn’t get far here with human weapons.

“Don’t!” Law said quickly. There were too many people here, too much collateral damage, and Luffy had already spent his moment of surprise. They wouldn’t get out of this alive, let alone unscathed.

Luffy shot him a look, full of surprise and shock and still some of that lingering hurt and when Law shied away from his gaze, his eyes met Doflamingo’s. He looked intrigued. _Oh fuck_.

“I guess I will just have to kill you, too, then,” Doflamingo said, voice so, so sweet and Law could feel the beginnings of the command laced in it. Luffy was pulling his arm back to punch him already. “Go on, take that g-”

“No!” Law wasn’t going to let this happen. “Stop! _Stop!_ ”

“Everyone stop for a minute there,” Doflamingo said and Luffy stopped, mid-punch. So did Zoro, in the process of unsheathing his sword. The only one who still didn’t seem to be affected was Law. Apparently Doflamingo had been serious about not using commands on him.

“Please, stop,” Law repeated. Maybe using the magic word would open some doors for him here, and now he really didn’t care about not begging anymore. He was desperate.

“You care about him,” Doflamingo smirked.

“Of course I do! Because-” Law cut himself off. Telling Doflamingo that contrary to him, Law was incapable of caring about people would not be constructive right now. As much as he would have loved to scream at him, to once again tell him what a black hole of a person he was, he couldn’t. Not right now. He took a deep breath. “I’ll do it. I’ll come with you. Just let all of these people go.”

Doflamingo cocked his head to the side. “Oh,” he made and smiled. Law almost expected him to kill Luffy anyway. “I’ll believe you. And to show you that I mean well, I’ll give you time to say your goodbyes… Then go look for my present, and come find me.”

_Present?_

“Everyone,” Doflamingo said, “in ten seconds, you will be able to move again. You can take the guns away from your heads. You no longer want to kill yourselves. You,” he motioned at a random officer, “delete that security camera footage.” He looked at Smoker. “You’ll give Law back whichever part of the body he brought you. It was just a very lifelike puppet. And you will all realize that all of this was a very, very funny joke.”

And then he was gone, out the door, and Law was alone with his ragged breathing and drumming heart for the next ten seconds. He started counting too late, and it did nothing to calm his heartbeat, but breathing in time with the numbers in his head was helping at least a little.

Then, on the count of eight, there was a clattering as everyone dropped their guns and started laughing. It was chilling.

But Luffy was staring at Law, and Law knew that he was aware that it hadn’t been a joke. Not because the mind trick hadn’t worked on him, but because he had the knowledge, and the anger, and the strength to work through it.

Zoro and Nami still looked confused, but they weren’t laughing. Nami kept running her hand over her forehead as if she was trying to grasp at a memory, trying to make it physical. Law had been there, and it was a terrible feeling.

He tore his eyes away, landing back on Luffy in just the moment thatLuffy tipped his head back, in a way that Law had never seen him do before. “You should have told me.”

It took him a minute to realize the gesture reminded him of himself. God, had they really been spending that much time together that Luffy was already mimicking him? Was this how far it had come?

And there he had been, having hoped Luffy could have gotten out before he got hurt any further.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and it lay heavy on his tongue and in his chest. But there was nothing else he could have said. He knew – both that he should have told Luffy about Ace way earlier, and that not involving him in his plans to catch Doflamingo would lead to more resentment, if found out. But he couldn’t have risked it.

“I doubt that,” Luffy said, and he sounded so tired.

“I _a_ _m_ sorry for most of it,” Law offered, and then added, for good measure: “For lying to you.”

“I don’t really want to hear it,” Luffy said. “I came here to keep you from getting yourself killed, or going to jail or whatever your plan was, and I did that, so I can leave again now.” But he looked so, so far from leaving. His eyes were locked on Law, and Law wasn’t sure what he could see in his expression, but it was something different than the resentment and sadness and anger he had expected.

Nami, finally having caught herself, looked at Luffy. “Come on, let’s go.” She shot Law a look, but he only registered it in the periphery of his vision, not looking away from Luffy.

“Are you okay?” Luffy asked.

Law, halfway to saying something before his brain caught up with the question, closed his mouth and only stared. Why was Luffy asking him this? After everything that Law had done to him, Luffy was still concerned about his well-being?

“Luffy,” Zoro said now, impatient.

But Luffy kept looking at Law.

“I’m okay,” Law finally said.

Luffy nodded. “Okay.” And then he just turned and left, before Law could ask if _he_ was okay.

And Law could have sworn that Luffy had smiled there, right at the end.

 

 

By the time he got home again, dawn had crept over the grey buildings of the city, and Law turned his face away from the sun as if the light would burn him.

Smoker had pressed the plastic bag with Baby’s head back into his hands a minute after Luffy had left, his face ashen and his movements robotic, as if part of him was fighting against the command that he knew to be going against all his instincts.

Law hadn’t known what else to do with it than dump it back in the river. He was smart enough not to start a second try at getting himself arrested – he didn’t want even more people to die.

The only part that was still eating at him was that Baby would never get a proper burial.

 

He was surprised to not find Corazón or Bepo in his flat when he returned home. (He was also surprised Corazón hadn’t called him yet, but he was trying not to think about that.)

But he had better things to do than wonder about them right now.

He didn’t even take his jacket off, instead going on a frenzied hunt through his apartment, for whatever “present” Doflamingo had left.

Suddenly it all made sense. He hadn’t killed Baby purely for sport. She must have come in to talk to Law and surprised Doflamingo. It didn’t make it better, not really, but at least it meant Doflamingo hadn’t come here specifically to kill someone. Still, he had broken into Law’s apartment, and god knows what he had left here.

Law found himself tearing through cabinets in the kitchen, and the closet in the bedroom, and even the bathroom. Nothing. He even dropped down on the floor and looked under his bed, even though there might be more monsters lurking under it (mostly blood), but still he found nothing.

Finally he sat down in his hallway, throwing off his jacket because he had started sweating, and put his head in his hands. Had Doflamingo lied to him? Was there actually nothing here?

He would have to go through this more methodical. Look at every room on a macro level. Had anything changed?

He was about to get up when he spotted a package sitting opposite him, next to the coat rack. For a moment he just stared at it, frozen in place, before the realization sunk in completely; then he was up on his knees and scrambling towards it, putting his hands on either side of the unsuspecting looking, brown package and dragging it the last few centimeters towards himself, hooking his fingers under the packaging paper to unwrap it–

There was a knock at his door.

He stopped dead, his eyes slowly wandering from the package in his hands to the door only two meters to his left. Not now.

“Go away!” he called, fully expecting it to be Bepo. He could know Law was still alive and had failed, but he really didn’t want to talk to him right now.

“It’s Monet.”

Fuck fuck fuck. _Fuck_.

She was literally the last person he wanted to see right now.

“What do you want?” he asked. Rude, of course, but he really didn’t give any shits right now. His heart was beating in his throat, and there seemed to be the smell of death emanating from his bedroom, even though he knew that was impossible.

 _She doesn’t know_ , he told himself. _She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t know._ She couldn’t know.

“Can I come in? I’m worried about Baby,” she called through the closed door. “She didn’t come home last night.”

Law grit his teeth and put the package back down, pushing it against the coat rack again so Monet wouldn’t see it. Then he got up and opened the door a crack.

“I haven’t seen her,” he told her. “Sorry.” The white lie burnt white hot on his tongue. He hadn’t seen her alive, sure, but he had seen her nonetheless, the way she was now – cold and dead and never coming back.

Monet frowned. “That’s weird,” she said, “because the last time we talked yesterday she said she was going to go check up on you and Bepo.”

“I wasn’t home most of yesterday,” Law said. “Had a pretty big case and then I didn’t come home until late.” That was the truth at least. “Are you sure she wasn’t just out partying?”

Monet scoffed. “On a weekday? That’s not her thing. She has a test in a couple days, she wanted to start studying.”

Law felt guilt settling in his gut once again. When would the senseless deaths stop? When would his lies stop?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where she is,” he said, and at least this time he was genuinely sorry. But he knew where she was. Her body, on the bottom of the river. And her spirit… either in a better place, or in eternal darkness – whichever people wanted to believe in. Law didn’t know what he believed in, personally, anymore.

Monet’s face fell a little, revealing how exhausted and scared she really looked. “Okay,” she said. “Just… you know, if she comes knocking, tell her I’m worried.”

“I will,” Law said. He closed the door and balled his fists as he listened to her walk away.

Another person he was lying to about the fate of someone they loved. He really was irredeemable.

Their conversation had shaken him so much that took him a moment to remember what he had been doing before Monet had shown up. Then he turned, dropped to his knees again and grabbed at the package.

What new horrors were lying in wait inside?

As opposed to earlier when he had still been fueled by desperation and adrenaline he was calm now – calm and scared. He took a deep breath and then tore the paper away, revealing an all-too familiar sight.

It was the box Doflamingo had made him retrieve from the warehouse. The one that Ace had led them to. The one Law had killed him for.

He felt a flurry of emotions. Shock. Confusion. Something like hope. Triumph? No. It was quickly replaced by confusion and revulsion again. Why was he holding this in his hands once again?

Still, despite his hands shaking once more, he was curious. What was inside?

He opened the latches at either side of the front and carefully pried open the top.

What was inside was a playing card – the Ace of Hearts – and a plain notebook that made a shiver run up Law’s spine. It was generic enough, but also painfully familiar, so he recognized it immediately. His childhood journal.

This couldn’t be the original contents.

Then again, until a few minutes ago he hadn’t even known his old diary still existed.

But would Doflamingo really have made them go through all that trouble just for this? Had he made Law kill Ace for this?

For a moment the thought threatened to overwhelm Law, waves of panic breaking over him and drowning him in the feeling, until he remembered how to breathe. No, this was a “present”. Something intended to make him doubt himself. A riddle.

It was a good thing that he hadn’t had to recite the street names, he thought, because coupled with the sight of the notebook they would only have made it worse.

Street names…

It was like the world’s most torturous puzzle pieces sliding into place. Suddenly he knew what Doflamingo wanted to tell him. Where he was waiting for him.

Home.

 


End file.
